Some mornings death
Knocks upon the door of my mind
As if I were behind on my rent
Wanting, demanding to be let in;
Sometimes he perches itself
On a scraggly stone
On a gloomy morn
In the distance of a sunny promise broken.
These thoughts of death,
They frighten me
For their persistence
I long for happier morns gone by
Focus on a future that I want
But these are not put off by
My managing mind they
Sit still and wait...smiling slyly
Or flutter their ugliness about
Like sunflowers in the wind
Oh for the sight of a beautiful sun soaked sunflower!
I can\'t focus on the tasks to hand
They piling up and shouting
I wish I could play in a band
These thoughts make a cacophony in my mind
I need some quiet, some soft green quiet
But even there
The ugly thoughts of death invade
Stealthily like an IDF missile.
These thoughts frighten me.
Even me.