Six feet under.
I lie and wonder.
Is this the end.
Was all the talk about the afterlife all a pretend.
All around cold and dark.
My stiff body has lost that get up and go spark.
I'm brown bread.
You know dead.
But my mind still thinks.
Whilst into the earth my body sinks.
Above my head i hear loved ones talk.
And around my grave i feel them walk.
Six feet under.
And my soul hasn't moved on to that special place over yonder.
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Author:
Wallace (
Offline) - Published: February 19th, 2018 01:36
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 23
Offline)
Comments4
It will.
I know, thank you.
LOL i read your piece and on completion i wanted to leave a comment of two words, but Goldfinch has written them for me.
'It will'
It will I know, thank you.
So Wallace, how come you rarely comment upon other peoples work poet?
I just enjoy writing.
I don't mean to be rude by not commenting.
I'm strange that way.
Hope you understand.
Reminds me of the stories of people putting "bells" in their catacombs in case they aren't really dead and wake up and need help getting out! That thought always gave me the shivers.....
Gives me the shivers also, thank you.
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