My Death Is Coming Soon
My death it is coming soon
I can feel it in the air
And I know that I will not be missed
Even when I am lying there.
I have tried the best in this life
And I helped out all that I could
But when it came my time for help
I looked around, and no one stood.
I don't know who I am anymore
I know that I just don't belong
So when I leave this world I wont care
Because I believe my living was all wrong.
My death it is in my dreams
So in reality I am dying everyday
I have pleaded and begged to everyone
Even to GOD I fell to my knees to pray.
I wished that I would be missed before I was gone
I wished someone in myself, would just believe
But all I hear is that I didn't miss much in this life
But they never had to plead, what about me.
If I were someone else it would be a different story
Their life and memories wouldn't be at the end
Someone would be there for them each and everyday
And everywhere they look, they would see a friend.
My life is coming to an end
Everyday I feel the coldness that much more
Now overtime that I look, I am alone
As no one sides with me, no one has done before.
Why must one person in life be treated so bad
Why must his dreams and wishes be washed away
Is everyone else wishes more important that is
Should his dreams and wishes be all erased.
I am told to wish and dream what others expect
Even if its the dreams and wishes that others had
But then all theirs smiles have been from yesterday
And yesterday was the time that made me glad.
My life is almost at its end
I can feel the people walking on my grave
And one thing I do know, it is I will be replaced
And truly I wish everyone a happier and peaceful day.
So why must I be treated the way that I am
I truly do try my best to help people in this life
To see them smile and not to hurt anyone
What wrong could be worth that simple price.
So I wish my life was a better time
I wish and pray that all treated me like a friend
And I wish I wasn't used or took advantage of
And sadly, I wish that my life wasn't coming to its end.
Randy L. McClave
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(c. 600 BCE)
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