a poem on death

death-it come and go unnoticed,
like the slow departing of a leaf from its tree
or the tears from our eyes we set free
sometimes it appear in the middle of a life's feast

death-a sad lover everyone denied,
and so as revenges upon its arrival,
we experience sadness inconceivable
slow leaving and wide

death-a great find,
buried beneath the sands
it waits to be found,
by the living's blind hands

death- if at my window you knock
don't hesitate to take the door
or pass through my ceilings and wall
for your entrance is inevitable.




this is for a friend whose mother recently passed away. i know your sad, and even if i'm incapable of feeling the same degree of sorrow and missing, expect i've been through the same pain. and so, i know inexactly how it feels. my ever cordial condolence to you and your family.