Am I Dead?

  Am I Dead?

 

We’re all going to die.

It’s not nice I know

but we’ve all got to face it.

Death’s coming and he burns

like time and the fat in your 

arteries that will one day

Stop your heart. Then spit

As you incinerate on a bed of fire

and your ashes lay forgotten on

a mantlepiece.

 

So what can we do?

 

How can I be happy knowing I will die?

 

Make an impact.

Stand up and shout out.

Don’t let your life ever end.

Let it light up the centuries that follow yours.

Make your fire infect the ears of your children

and have such an impact they tell theirs and so on.

Make people happy.

Make people sad.

Because your life is your own

and your footprint can take whatever shape you want it to.

 

I chose to write shit like this.

I put into words what hurts and what cries

In my middle class my mind.

Not from my stomach or heart or mind 

but from my eyes. Looking out

onto you.

You are so beautiful and 

I am so lucky to infect your lives

for an instant.

 

Decide what mark you leave.

Evade death

and welcome criticism

delivered by your friends.

◄ I'm a Prick

It Always Rains on Fiddlers Ferry ►

Comments

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Jules Clare

Mon 24th Jan 2011 09:45

I like it, I have written similar stuff, it is really open and well expressed. Life is precious, I have had a brain hemorrhage so I appreciate this on a daily basis. Please see my poem I Love It

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