Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sep 2016
A BLACK VIOLIN ABANDONED IN THE SNOW

Being dead is like
being a haunted house

and you are
its resident ghost

like a black violin
abandoned in the snow

for no good reason
other than

that's just the way
it is.

Actually it is the future
that is haunting you

the things you never
got to do.

The life left un-lived.

The days that should have been
yours.

That's why being dead
hurts like hell

the what you didn't do
or didn't get to do

that leaves you strung out on the air
the great regret

still cursed with consciousness.
Donall Dempsey
Written by
Donall Dempsey  Guildford
(Guildford)   
318
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems