Jan Sand (February 2 1926 / USA)
Death knocked upon my door -
Asked me to come along.
I told him that I'm occupied.
To leave now would be wrong.
He tipped his hat and made a bow
And made a wistful smile.
He said that he would call again
After a little while.
Comments about this poem (A Visitor by Jan Sand )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings