EulogyA Poem by Ink
I think it's funny,
how people compose the most wonderful things only to say them to you when you die You spent the day you were born with syllables and actions character books turning to fiction Growing up blank and learning to climb the well survival and adaptability they try to train you well But their words were only kinder when they think you deserve them to be and their faces are colder even if they're not mean Here, at the point of life, or no-life they stand around and cry wishing there could have been more time yet all the the time you had since you were born were the times you are only allowed, no return Time, they ask, time they ignored how do you feel now? Of course you don't you are colder than they, you are no more just a body under our floors
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1 Review Added on May 12, 2018 Last Updated on May 12, 2018 |