A Talk with Death


i talked to death for the first time in months
wasn't looking too well
new bags underneath his eyes
and his clothes seemed a little worn out

our words seemed forced
like friend who hadn't seen each other for awhile
but i soon warmed up
he told me he missed me
and how i use to always try and meet him

i haven't felt like that for awhile
i confessed
i got better
i explained

and i'm happy you did
he told me
because our meetings always happened too soon
too fast
the timing was always wrong

i was just trying to do my job
but i couldn't carry out the task
he tried to say
not when you were like that

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem