People are born everyday
born preys of the ever roaring mighty lion
everyone is locked under the inescapable room
the room without an emergency exit
the beast makes sure none finds the way out
insatiably devouring all of them
one after the other
sometimes in doubles, and dozens
then more and more are born
that the beast gets more fat and stronger
young, old, ugly, black, white, rich poor
everyone on the waiting least
nobody knows when he tours
but when he roars, the mark is visible
five bold letters of flaming fire
'DEATH'
upon his departure it's horror all round
people uncontrollably crying, weeping, screaming, mourning
it's another life lost
but you are surely next
people will be holding hands with a slogan
"GONE TOO SOON"
you will be gone.
Comments2
Smartly written. Have a Happy Holiday
Appreciated sir Jerry
such an impassioned write,
Happy Holidays
Thanks Mek
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.