WHERE does this death go to,
can they hear my child tears,
dripping on this painted up
wooden casket.
CAN they see my body shaking,
from head to toe.
CAN they fix this problem with
words of wisdom, like i love
you, and ill see you soon,
WHERE does this death go to,
i am a child, and i dont really
know.
very good david you brought the child out into your words which is not easy i love the simplicity of this poem and death is a favourite of mine i love to write about it try to understand Warm regards allan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hi David, Death is a constant subject of debate in our society, both publicly and in our own heads. I know what happens to the body, it is obvious. But the essence, the spirit of the individual is a much hard subject to negotiate. After losing my husband 3 years ago I now believe that the spirit most certainly lives on. The spirit in life is undefinable, why should it not be the same in death? Hope that helps. Very authentically expressed poem. 10 from me. All the best Tai