A Letter To Death Poem by Anu Soneye

Dear Death.
Do you remember the last time we met at the beach?
When you played beach ball with your scythe.
When we sat together enjoying the warmth of the sunshine.
and how to volley and smash, I did teach.

But since we last met,
I have been hearing something different.
These stories, tell me it's a myth.

Tell me you never hooked off his head.
and that it wasn't you that sunk her in bed
Cause this tale of blood and gore,
this script I read and hear of is quite different.

I do hear that people change
but how can I tell the world?
How can I explain?
Who will believe me?
That a onetime lemonade-mouth
now has his lips covered in blood.
How can I tell them that we once took ice-cream,
and that we held hands like friends,
surfed the ocean like penguins
and played pokers
like the world was never going to come to an end.
But now I feel if anything is going to come to an end,
It will be us being friends.
It will be to severe this relationship,
this usual trend.
Because I can't walk under a bleeding moon
without getting my hands wet.

So if we ever meet again,
I hope it will be judgment for each,
I hope you'll make your last speech.
I hope it will be at the beach,
Not to teach volley,
but to take coffee under the blazing rays of a raged sun.