When will it be that it’s my time to go?

I see all the signs in the air.

Must I wait through storms til there’s nothing but snow,

or is there a milder path there?

When I was young, I never spent time

nor took any thought just to sit by and think.

I guess there was no need when weather was fine,

but seasons have passed in a blink.

But somehow there’s comfort her...

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The rain with its cosmic eyes

Keeps knocking at the windowpane

Trembling with each steps

With all her secrets in every drop, one by one.

The evening was waiting for the

Magical rituals....like secret manuscripts

For her readers. It was dark like prison cells.

Waiting in a row for the final sentence.

The room was empty with the silence

Of the graveyard, exce...

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That pain in your chest when your crying at night tears pure white 

Show me the pain and insecurities you continue to shoulder 

So i can come in like the rude friend that doesnt ask to come over 

Knock shit over

Running in the dark until I fall off the worlds edge whose missing me anyway

I think about that everyday falling asleep waking up still in darkness 

Trying to harness 

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Poetry about Real People - The power of poetry in hospice care 

There is a tension between the advance of medical science, that pursues its ability to fix and treat, and an acceptance of the natural order of death and how that may be experienced. Atul Gawande, a surgeon and health researcher, has reignited this debate with his book 'Being Mortal' (and also presented the 2014 Reith Lectures on B...

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AN UNFORTUNATE DEATH

Walking through the narrow foreign streets he stumbles upon a corpse,

it was only curiosity that made him stop but try telling that to the gendarme.

They beat him with sticks and locked him up, ignoring his innocent pleas.

He curses himself for not taking another street, now that he awaits to hang.

It’s just another unfortunate incident...

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THEN JUST AS NOW

And so I looked upon the holocaust after all those years and I see a world torn apart by madness.

Names of places like Auschwitz, Katyn Wood, Dresden and Hiroshima read like the list of the dead.

But that is what they are, sixty years after Mankind’s darkest hour.

Today there is a new war, on terrorism and tyranny, brush fire wars from one place to t...

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£4.88

Your body was found dead in your flat, three months gone and smelling like hell.

They came and took you away, to the morgue downtown, an unhappy place.

Clearing your flat they found £4.88, not much to show for a lonely death.

Always on your own, eternally in death. How sad no one will see you buried, a pauper’s death, the undertaker the only witness at this sol...

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