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Mar 2019
Life dies.
Sadness cries.

The second hand continues.
By weeks end it's old news.

When I close my eyes forever.
My first moments from life I sever.

I want you to look at me.
Take a look at death, life's fee.

Exit the funeral home's door.
The body in the casket you will see no more.

Get into your car and turn the key.
Brush the dirt off of your bended knee.

Brush the scent of death from you once again.
Carry on with a few prayers and a meaningful amen !

Normalcy reacquaints itself in a few short days.
Until life dies and once again death is how life pays.

Live your life while you still can.
Death eventually comes for each and every woman and man.

It might be today, it might be tomorrow.
The time on the clock is only there to borrow.
Written by
The Concrete Poet  M
(M)   
44
 
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