Death Is My Friend
Death is my friend.
We lie together on the ocean blown sand.
He is my gentle guide and saint.
He's rocked in my arms, and burrowed in my heart.
I found him playing in my crade, when I was just born.
Death is so loved by me,
Even his non-living ways.
As living as I may be,
Death has seen life and death.
Because I have death glam,
My friend looks sweet.
I lie underneath the apple tree with a heart beating
With one whose heartbeat doesn't exist.
But now I must stand up and leave him be,
So I walk in the opposite direction.
Death is a sweet friend,
But I'd rather meet him one day
Far in a distant time,
Then he'll be mine, a friend close to me.
Then I'll be just like him,
Hand in hand, this time matching eath other
Vera Sidhwa's Other Poems
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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