DEAD LINES
If I met my death,Wonder what he would say.
Your not old enough for me,
To steal, Go away.
Or would he say,
With a nodding know.
No time to pack your bags,
It's time for you to go.
Or would he be mysterious,
Just showing me his scythe.
Not giving me anytime to say,
Goodbye gorgeous, To my wife.
Old age Invades my thoughts,
This I know is true.
If I go to fast my carol,
I shall always wait for you.
Poetry by Alan J Ripley
Read 200 times
Written on 2024-05-24 at 00:28
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