My Number
Never have i ever seen a day with
Much more gloom
If I gave a damn i would say that
I am a perfect imperfection anyone
Could know. born of unpleasant
Circumstances
Growing up i liked to chase birds
From my fire escape when we
Lived in the city when I grew old I
Shamed to etch the momentary
Themes in life. All of the mile
Stones passed me by.
As I passed one hundred years I
Knew death by name.
The grim Repear some would whisper
Caring not for their day. I
Maneuvered all precautions not
To let him in, my friend. he was cunning.
he was the one that didn't let me out of
My flower filled casket. It was
Then that I took my final bow. My
Number was up.
The grim Repear was there searching
For the next victim of their final
Fate. Can't escape death he
Sneered as he leered when they
Carefully lowered me entombed
Be at peace one said. Live
Cautiously for death rules this
Catastrophic plateau droned the
Wisdom of the preacher
Copyright © Val Brooklyn Rogers Blk Panther | Year Posted 2023
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