What’s the point really?
I mean we all die right,
In the end.
Old age
poison
suicide
car crash
intoxication
overdose
What is the point of continuing on
if none of it will matter once we’re gone.
How do you know
you won’t die of a stroke while reading this?
It’s all based on hope and faith.
Hope that you won’t be stupid enough
to cross the street without looking both ways.
Faith in a higher being
keeping watch over you.
Tell me why haven’t you died yet?
Do you think about it often?
Death.
It’s a strange and morbid concept,
yes, but
Still.
How long would you like to live?
How do you hope you will die?
All these questions
and it seems the only people who can answer them
are gone.
-
Author:
M.E.M. (
Offline) - Published: March 19th, 2018 13:47
- Comment from author about the poem: The title is just a description if anyone has ideas for a title I'm happy to hear them. If I choose your title I will give you credit here.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: Brittany Jo
Offline)
Comments2
The points I feel are endless as for the reason to carry on or stop is.
I've always wondered what it will be like from a young age, now plenty of friends and family have passed.
I'm slowly thinking it's just find balance in a forever flow of change.
Thanks for write, nicely done
Very insightful. Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it
Good write. Yes we all die from these bodies we have but our Spirit will go on for eternity.
Thank you, thank means a lot
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