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Anastasia Jun 6
Dad, where did you go?
I hate that you're dead,
I'm angry you're dead,
I wish I could go and rest

In that coffin buried deep,
I wish to travel to your grave,
To dig into the Earth,
Open your coffin and

Crawl inside to sleep,
Beside you again, so cozy,
I wish to pretend we're,
Together on the sofa

Giggling and laughing,
A feeling fleeting so fast,
I wish to grasp,
Onto the only image

Of your corpse once alive again,
That would talk and hold,
The burden of your Death with me,
To  hold me, my daddy,

I wish to open your coffin,
Lay inside and pretend again,
And again and again,
You and I forever best friends.
Please, pick up even if the line is dead.
Shruti Atri Dec 2021
The light is dimming:
Every year, hour, minute
Slowly passes in silence
In distances, lost and forgotten

The light is dying:
Slowly fading in memories
Revisited countless times
By lonely, wrinkled hearts

The light snuffs out:
Tears of regret staining young hearts
Seeking forgiveness for time lost
Words unspoken, love neglected
Mark Lecuona Jun 2016
The rows of corn were straight as history is long
The farmer knew he had chosen soiled hands
Or was it a blessing
The morning sun always waited for his signal
Nature waits for those who care for the land

The wood desk was smooth as glass
A hand-carved wooden hand pointed north
Or was it to God
It had been mounted upon a wall
He took it down to find the place of his souls birth

The old boots were as cracked as his voice
He kissed his father hoping to see him again
Or was it faith
Tomorrows long day would wait a little longer
For the night knew his tears would say when

— The End —