Get Your Premium Membership

Insensitive Grim Reaper

We were in at the kill
When he took ill
We gave him every pill
But his body grew cold and still

Caught in a strange chill 
We put death through the mill
But in vain were all our grills
And all our prayer drills

Gone with all his learning and skills
Leaving behind no Will but only frills
With lots of unpaid bills
Death considers not our earthly thrills

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

A comment has not been posted for this poem. Encourage a poet by being the first to comment.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry