Death is my best friend
It waits for me until the end
It wills my parth that I do walk
And marks my map just with a chalk
Marking routes I have to take
Only I can make that mistake
Learning all as I march through
The experience within it all
Is so that I can grow
Ten feet tall
And know the elevator
Will take me to the ball
Memento mori, remember your death. Wise words and a concept you have dealt with well in your poem. The prospect of death gives a certain intensity to our lives. It baffles me why people want to live forever.
Suzan, I hope that this is the classic example of ' Easier said - - - than done! '. B.V.A.
You sound as many should; ready for the journey that is sure to arrive any day. Bettere to be prepared by doing good deeds and fulfilling our missions. Thanks!
A perceptive piece about one of life's only two certainties, death and tax. Ez
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
DEATH İ S PART OF OUR LIFES; NOT FRIEND.DEATH NOT WAIT US; WE GO BY WALK TO THE ITS FOOTS.WHAT A STRONG CONTRADICTION