Want you bury me in a corner grave
It is to late now for me to be saved
Cover me with dirt to keep me warm
Like a mother does a baby not yet born
Some will say that it is never to late
They have never had to carry my wait
If you visit me do it only at night time
Cannot stand to see the light I could never find
Do not bring flowers I can no longer smell
I was done in by just one single shell
So please bury me in a corner grave
Do not cry for a man who could not be saved
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Author:
The Depressed 1 (
Offline) - Published: June 28th, 2022 02:49
- Category: Sad
- Views: 18
- User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments1
'It is *too* late now for me to be saved
Cover me with dirt to keep me warm'
lol
what mother does that...?
what a morbid thought
and yet
so relatable, for us who've
witnessed, that cruel face
of fate...
(I related, with you sentiments
I too wonder
if we be born, to be plagued
hated, marginalised and abused
what does our existence, serve
surely
it be easier, for the universe
to just make, punch bags
out of more durable, matter
would last longer
and some of us, wouldn't
have to born, to just suffer..)
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