I Smiled At Death And Held His Hand

I Smiled At Death And Held His Hand short poem

Photo by arileu

When I was born,
so was death.
He awaits my last breath.
I would be death’s thorn.

Each morn I trilled,
and eye balled him.
Told him death be a sin,
and his thoughts he must kill.

Time scurried, passing by.
Death seemed oh so patient,
standing around just waiting.
“Go away, I’m well,” I sigh.

My hair turned grey.
Death’s shadow stayed the same.
It was of course his waiting game.
The play would end one day.

My life he had followed, every mile.
Side by side, through thick and thin.
A friend now, I thought he’d been.
So today I held his hand and smiled.

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I love writing and reading poems, not so much the classics these days but knew fresh stuff I find that exciting. New styles and new ideas. Some people paint, or write books or do crafts to get the inside out, me I do poetry and read the inside of folk I love to write fun and nature poems the best though.
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4 Comments on "I Smiled At Death And Held His Hand"

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Darren Scanlon

Beautiful…I don’t know what else I can add…I hope I can smile as he takes my hand!

Randall Smith

It makes it so much easier when we understand that we started to die the day we were born.
“I would be death’s thorn” I loved the idea that I would irritate death until the end.


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