Joshua Popoola Poet Quatrain

The Box of Death

The long wooden box 
Was gently set down 
As dirt was packed from the earth 
To fill up the earth 

Black coats and umbrellas 
Huddled together under the rain 
Watched on in silence
Not a word to be uttered 

I, in their midst 
Looked up but couldn't see
Clenching my fist 
I knew I had to stay strong 

But, a trickle of water 
Found its way out of my eyes 
And rolling gently down my face 
Fell on top of the long wooden box

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

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

Sylvia Coulstock July 23, 2018 at 4:44 AM This is very strong and sad yet beautifully expressed.It touched me very much Joshua especially the last stanza,indeed a very emotional piece.It is impossible not to be moved by it.I look forward to reading more of your writes.Thank you.