Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
mjad Jun 2019
Should I be worried about something?
I stood by the bed and everyone cried, I held his hand and felt nothing
Quite literally since my grandpa was dead
But also because there might be something wrong inside of my head
I observed the time and told the nurse who walked in the room
One week later he was in a tomb
More like a six foot box in a wall
Flowers and a name as a rememberance is all
We visit occasionally my parents and I
An empty flower vase greets us each time
I take one from Dorothy's box right next door
Her family doesn't visit her anymore
But her flowers are there everytime that we go
So I move them around, it's not like she knows
My mother cries and my father stands strong letting one or two tears hit the ground
But I stand there and read names of strangers all around
Leaving behind people like my parents who mourn and remember
And granddaughters like me who don't cry and whatever
My mom calls it being strong for the family and says I'm okay
I think she's in denial of my lack of display
But alas a tear fell in fourth grade
I recall, putting my cat down at such a young age
Made me realize that death is a gateway to nothing
But leaving behind family that struggles with living
So I just won't show it anymore I determined when we left the vet place
I walk right by death and I don't leave a trace
He could knock on my door and I'd take him by the hand
Show him the bed and where to stand
Just like I stood during my grandpa's last day
He can stare at me and wonder looking on
Is there something wrong with this human?
I find myself thinking that I know it all, but I still am left asking
Should I be worried about something? Is it okay to feel nothing?
i wrote another poem about his death but didn't know which was better so i just posted both
mjad Jun 2019
Is it wrong of me
To stare at my grandpa as he falls asleep
Eternally
And feel absolutely nothing
Except annoyance
At the reaction of my family
The messy tears that are rolling
I wonder why they cared so deeply
As if the world will end
With the exhalation of his last breathe
Knowing
That is not the case at all
The world will end
When we breathe our last
Individually
So I stare at my grandpa
Wondering if it is wrong of me
To feel better knowing
That it is not mine,
But his world ending
i wrote another poem about his death but didnt know which was better so i just posted both
Poetic T Jun 2019
I was a ghost in a country of
                  shadows, where no one knew
                            who belonged and


who was the enemy.

Travelling on dirt roads,
                    a thousand year old walk ways
                    that had a ominous version.


A road to travellers of a far away, not knowing
                   the traps of improvised fear.
                    Diluted thoughts reflect on


hand covering death beneath the surface.


And when they ran in the fields of dust,
           a message from above kissed reality,
                                and they fell beneath the sands.


But there presence was lingering,  as there fear tore
                apart what travelled the roads after they'd left.


Crimson kissed the past present
              and the moments that died afterwards.

We die, we live, we are what collected
            before the silence.
            Dying for the freedom of those
                         who walk streets casually.

Our hearts stopped, so there footsteps could
                                                 walk on.
jayebird Jun 2019
when will this skin transcend into an iron exoskeleton?
when will these bones birth out from neath the fragile wine red wires of self-preservation?
water-hands ebb on about a digital dam of evolution,
meanwhile promising my-own ****** dissolution.
George Krokos Jun 2019
I know what is killing the reef*
the bureaucrats are just lying
they know why it's coming to grief
and, before its time's up, dying.

When you consider just how much
is being made through tourist trade
those ill effects of human touch
you'll understand what evil's made.

Sure, there are other things as well
it would be foolish to deny
and of ignorance not to tell
but the main one is a fare's pry.

The reef's a large ecosystem
that's been here for millions of years
many creatures from it do stem
human pollution gives no cheers.

The wonders by sight that it gives
won't allow a stone left unturned
causing harm to it as it lives;
another problem by man churned.

Nature's real gauge of climate change
has now been rising steadily
making the weather appear strange
and the reef languishing to be.

It will be required for a while
to leave it alone and help it
recover from the human guile
that's only destroying to wit.

If we don't recognise this truth
or cause of the problem at hand
it would only deny our youth
of them ever seeing it grand.

Too much of a good thing can be
turned into something bad for all
if those involved but fail to see
the damage caused and so forestall.

Just think of what life would be like
if we could now do something to
prevent such a disastrous hike
but failed to act or carry through.
----------
To reverse the trend, where possible, of an adverse condition or situation
we must take certain specific opposite measures with due consideration.
S.O.#128 © 2019 George Krokos
_____
*Note: Reef = The Great Barrier Reef off the coast of north east Australia is one of the great  natural wonders of the world.
Written in late May 2019.
Tony Tweedy Jun 2019
Does everyone come to realize that life is just a terminal illness?
Surely we all contemplate where all roads lead.
Poet X Jun 2019
when even the stars
get tired of shining
and the wind
can't keep on moving,
when our models
and oceans begin to
be on the same diet,
and mother nature puts us
up for adoption,
when Earth itself..
becomes a mere place
and no longer a home..
that is when I will go.
when there is nothing beautiful left in this disgusting world,
I will go. . .

~ the girl who wishes for a better home
title by Robert frost
sancus May 2019
the taste of death is
sweet, but you have to have your
tongue be burned by it.
rk May 2019
underneath the gloomy morning dew
i would sit and dream of you
the bleeding hearts
would bloom and dance,
in remembrance of our wilting romance.
Next page