Timing

timing

there is this place that we all come to die
we wait for the right moment
when the world is not looking
then we slip into obscurity
into our own history
which is personal
private
not open to scrutiny
or prying eyes
when we are dead
we bar the doors 
the windows are locked shut
so that we may live out 
our death in peace
Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace