At my funeral there will not be any wilting flowers,
There will be no pitying stares on a casket turned to ash
Instead I will be rotting by myself,
Stuck in a dirty shack,
I will be nothing but maggot snack
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Author:
Mr. Not (
Offline) - Published: September 2nd, 2022 15:01
- Comment from author about the poem: just feeling sad and paranoid, sulking in my room as i reflect on why none of my friends like me
- Category: Sad
- Views: 23
Offline)
Comments1
That feeling does come on occasion and at times with variations from empty funeral parlours to streets lined with mourners parades. And it seems to be linked to the mood of the moment as well, sulky or feeling loved, even. Thanks for sharing.
Feeling lonely is a feeling you can't get rid of it seems, no matter what you do it'll be weighing you down and lurking in the shadows. Thank you.
Over the years I have attempted to engage this selfsame loneliness and find poetry to be a pleasant and constant companion. Perhaps it is the same with you.
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