Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2013
Everyone dies in the end and there is nothing we can do about it.
Yes, we’re holding people’s life in our hands but it is just a pass that Life and Death do playing their game or maybe it is only their job.
We hold it until Death can take it and put into a garbage bag and
in the early morning wearing  a robe, yawning come on the porch, waiting for the garbage truck to pick up and take away all that rotting mess called humans.
No, we are not even holding life, but only fleetingly touch it with our pinky.
even if it was in our hands, it would just seep through our fingers like water or sand.
it is way too unstable. Any force of nature cannot make it durable.
any freezing or burning cannot make it stronger.
none of names or monuments are not able to hold the breath in the body.
Nothing can make Death not put that black bag on our head
and not tie it tightly that none of atom of our breath, not even a part of the molecule that comprises the scent of our decaying bodies is not leaked into the fresh air
Alissa Grinch
Written by
Alissa Grinch  Kyiv, Ukraine
(Kyiv, Ukraine)   
504
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems