rrivera138

Divorcing Shakespeare

The broken jukebox,
stationed between
distraction and philosophy,
plays that dreadful song
one more time:
we all die,
all of us alone.

A silver lining promptly
punctures the airwaves;
laughter and dance
possess the strong.
We die alone, yes,
but we're dying together.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.