Out Like A
How will death come to my door
Will in be in bed or the cold hard floor
Will it be the heart or soul
Heaven or hell the goal
A life of good and bad
Their weight lead clad
I see myself as one who served
But to most that's absurd
Too many I have filled their pocket
Some to pull my eye from their socket
At the winter of my life
What disease will end the strife
Always unwilling to accept the calm
I hope I go out like a bomb
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.
