To Whom it may concern...

Who will write my poems after I die;
the girl I love is dead, the joy in my
heart is gone…How will I be
remembered if no one remembers me
now? I tried my best to live one day
at a time, but everyday seems to be
a new pain in my heart, I am tired of
giving and receiving nothing but fake
hugs and smiles. I write to express my
feelings, but in reality I write to stay
alive, because I know that the day I
stop writing I will welcome death with
a smile, then everyone will know how
deep my pain is and why.
The rain song is all I know…this poem
is a cry for help, but no one cares this
I feel!! I will miss you, my only true love,
and the poetry of my heart. The poet
who critics the souls is getting ready to
depart this world, friends, and foes…
family, maybe one day we’ll meet again,
but I doubt it.

Sincerely yours,

The Poet Unknown

Author's Notes/Comments: 

my time is coming to an end.

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Cleo's picture

why end it? life is so much

why end it?

life is so much sweeter and a blessing

Morningglory's picture

Don't end it! Stay with us

Don't end it! Stay with us poet. We need you here.

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