Who Dies Next

Bold black bald
took rash steps
hm hm hm
who lives death,
thumps own grave
who dies next? 
you you you
Six feet thus.
I fear  not!
if eight feet tall.

sit!  stand not
In our loss
two graves dug
don't be lost
our bones rust 
mixed sand dust.
Infant love, 
grown hate_thread¿
if not curse
who hates love

My charm divines¿ not
who lives long? 
old or youth, no one knows
like today
who no_one¿ knew.
young brethren,
fake not sage
seek refuge 
these mistakes,
I once made.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

Poem

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Vi Avatar
April 15, 2017 at 7:24 AM
Good content. I liked the last paragraph.
Lateef Avatar
April 15, 2017 at 4:44 PM
Thank you sire!
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