Death

A simple poem about Death.

I am going to die. And when I do:

I will have seen the beaches, the forests, the snow,

I will have seen the mountains, the lakes, the rainbows,

I will have seen all I can, all I want.

I will have done my homework, my writing, my payments,

I will have given my all to my jogging, my donations, my commitments.

I will have done all I can, all I want.

I will have met my friends, my enemies, my family.

I will have met my president, my Diamondbacks team, my teachers,

I will have met all who I can, all who I want.

And after all of that, when I am done,

Death will extend his hand, asking “Will you come?”
And I will be ready.

I will reunite with loved ones and see the heavenly light.

And I will be ready.

And I will eventually die.

Author's Note

This was a short poem written by today for my Creative Writing class.