wondering about dying
You tell me about death,
I fear it greatly, I fear.
I fear it happening to you now
For no reason, as you question -
Why the diseased rot in beds, disintegrate,
Yet exist in too slow obliteration.
Why comforts metamorphose into demons
Piloting a trip to the whale's belly.
Why parents die without a will,
Without kindness, without forgiveness.
Why friends take a flight a bus a car,
And never return to us.
Why some hurtle towards darkness,
Drown in a sea and vanish.
I fear and you wonder why
We live and etch graves in our memories.
You ask all this and I fear, I fear
For I know the shadow that walks with me.
You speak of death, and I know,
I know you know it could happen to me.
I fear it greatly, I fear.
I fear it happening to you now
For no reason, as you question -
Why the diseased rot in beds, disintegrate,
Yet exist in too slow obliteration.
Why comforts metamorphose into demons
Piloting a trip to the whale's belly.
Why parents die without a will,
Without kindness, without forgiveness.
Why friends take a flight a bus a car,
And never return to us.
Why some hurtle towards darkness,
Drown in a sea and vanish.
I fear and you wonder why
We live and etch graves in our memories.
You ask all this and I fear, I fear
For I know the shadow that walks with me.
You speak of death, and I know,
I know you know it could happen to me.
Labels: poetry
Selected by incognito |
17:56 |
2 Comments:
I read those lines and thought of the cheer on the face of somebody who'll die soon.
To smile and make others giggle in such an hour, that's Art Buchwald.
Thought to share, since you folks love writing. Best to all!
Such simple stark words, such naked potent meaning, such talent!
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