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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1106617
A short rhythmic poem, to show a view of the dead and the reaslisation of their soul.
Why, oh why, was my life to be like this,
My, oh my, this life has no bliss,
All I want is that one loving kiss,
That, for some reason I always seem to miss.

Why, oh why, do I feel all this hurt?
Oh I wish my life would convert,
But why, was no one to my presence alert,
Every single thing makes me feel like dirt.

Why, oh why, do I feel so cold?
Just like a piece of wet, sodden mould.
It feels like my life has been sold,
To the lowest bidder, who to my existence had been told?

Why, oh why, does everything deaden?
The reason I now know, my personal Armageddon,
For I am dead, a spirit, ascended to heaven,
Now the peace and happiness does beckon.

DM Griffiths.
© Copyright 2006 Alexander (anselmo107 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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