When we die
Who will remember us?
Who will still love us?
Who will know we are still here in spirit?
We are just one person
In the great chain of life
And when we leave
A burden leaves someone’s shoulders
A weight they had to carry
When we die
Will we live happy in another world?
Will we live in heaven?
Will we die and be born again?
What will happen when we die?
No one knows except for the dead
But they can’t tell us
Its their secret
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Angel of Death
Poetry! Comments are welcomed!
Other voices
Images in my head
Angel of Death
Inside my head
- SCHIZOPHRENIC MIND
- "The poem is a little myth of man's capacity of making life meaningful. And in the end, the poem is not a thing we see --i t is, rather, a light by which we may see -- and what we see is life." By Robert Penn Warren
Quotes in my mind
"The poem is a little myth of man's capacity of making life meaningful. And in the end, the poem is not a thing we see --i t is, rather, a light by which we may see -- and what we see is life."
By Robert Penn Warren
3 comments:
Outstanding writing. Very, very good.
Thanks! i really wonder what dreams are made for and this poem expressed what i wanted to say.
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