PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I live in the sweet dank smell

Of a black rose,

I am Death.

I live in the ill-mannered blue

Of melancholy sadness,

I know Death.

I live in the three-quarter moon

That floats in the clean blue sky,

I am the me that be.

I live in the distempered reality

Of life's commotion,

I am a branch on the tree of life.

I live in the stale air of stagnation,

I am lonely in a crowded world.

I live in the long long days

Of the propagated reality,

I am sad to see you go.

I am happy to be leaving.

I am glad to have already been gone.