Death's Woe

This is a poem about Death I wrote. It's probably not that great, but feedback is welcome.

Death's Woe

A shadowy figure trudges down a street

Behold the dreaded man by the name of Death

He walks past doors, each with a Christmas wreath

Looking in windows to see families with joy

A melancholy weight settles on his chest

How he longs for a permanent rest

from this job he is obligated to do

Life is always glorified, while he is hated

But the cycle will never rest

So he must comply and do his job

To soothe the pain in a dying man's chest

Woe comes to the families he must rob

Death doesn't want this heavy task at all

Like us, he wants to give a friend  a call

And have a well-deserved respite

With someone who gives him no spite

Reviews

[KanaDream]

I like this take on the feelings of Death as a person. I have a suggestion that may be evaluated and used or thrown out and that would be where it says 'obliged' it brings along a connotation (at least for me) that it is something he is grateful to do. I believe 'obligated' might fit better, but that's just my opinion. Either way, I really like your poetry. Keep Dreaming. ^^

[Macie Hill (Pseudonym)]

Thanks for the feedback :D Will definitely change it!