It Fades
The pictures on the wall,
I pasted when I was small.
Those paintings I had made
Of stones like Ruby or Jade.
Some diaries could be seen,
I wrote when I was a teen.
Some poems were kept in folders
I wrote when I needed shoulders.
Although they all are rumpled,
Torn apart and crumpled.
And now I am getting weak,
Getting more wrinkles on cheek.
And now I could barely see,
Just some newspapers and cups of tea.
And now I have memories to remember,
To laugh at moments we made together.
But here I go to listen eulogies,
In the beautiful box covered by roses and Lilies.
Here I go to have some rest,
To leave some people who are the best.
And here I go like a beautiful bride,
To enter the world afterlife.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
