Lucille van OnselenZunckel
Reaching for that bottle, your hand on that throttle,
getting ready to ride without a guide,
down that road, that road to hell.
Wake up before it's too late,
before you reach that gate.
Let go of the hate,
think of your mate.
Looking at life through the bottom of a bottle,
One of these days you won't be waking.
Don't you hear them Warning Bells?
Shatter that bottle on the floor,
turn around, walk out that door,
do it for you. Listen to them Warning Bells.
Only time will tell if you heard,
heard them bells.
Don't find yourself on the floor, anymore,
turn around say no more, walk out that door.
You're off that road that road to hell.
You've heard them Warning, Warning Bells.
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Comments about this poem (Warning Bells by Lucille van OnselenZunckel )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
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