I do not expect for you to understand this Neither do I expect for I to understand this Read and see Listen and try to be me For this is a poem that can not be read up to three
Death to me can be complicated Yet so simple From one definition to the other Only that one definition sticks with me
Death can be sad Or it can be happy I do not care what you choose Whatever emotion your heart stands on, let it be But I understand death can be sad, happy, or angry
Death is yellow Or red Maybe even blue Whatever color you decide to represent your emotions From red to rage, from blue to sadness, and yellow to happiness Or maybe not even a color floats for you Only maybe me
Death is what I see Or maybe what I hear Senses are so complicated
Death is given to you and me To not only to experience, but to interpret it You can simplify it or complicate it It can be sad or happy, do what you want It can be a color, or not What do I care? Death is what I know, how do you know it?
I donβt expect anyone to like this...why? One period of history class, thatβs why...but either way...enjoy it..(or not...)