Death Old Poems | Examples
These Death Old poems are examples of Old poems about Death. These are the best examples of Old Death poems written by international poets.
Oh just shut up, you loud-mouthed crow.
Tell me something that I don’t know.
Like ~ when's the day on which I'll die,
and if there's anyone who'll cry,
or wave my wretched soul goodbye.
We fought with monsters and became monsters fighting the insane acting out in strange displays dancing nonsense in a cave imprisoned by a thousand lies we designed to contain a willful child, and with hammer blows and the whips we made ourselves better slaves then the slaves who came before with fevered dreams drunken prose spoken lost and broken noses, broken skulls, broken bones tore through flesh, the fear, the fear, I miss my friends, those younger days, it seemed to me we would never grow old, tired. VIXI.
Poem 17 Note. . . vixi liber et moriar: "I have lived free and I will die free"
A few more screws loose, some buttons missing
forgetful more often than not
Some days better, most days worse
just part of the prep for casket and hearse
cautiously treads ground
anxious over his ninth life
tastes the air with pause
I had worn the hat almost to death
It was a fishing cap, with a picture
Cannot remember what the picture was now
it had worn off a long time ago
It had fallen in the lake several times
but I always retrieved it, because it was green
My favorite color, and it had been my Daddy’s
It used to smell like him.
The seams had split, and the brim was peeling
It had slashes in it, as if it had been knifed
I am sure it was at least fifty years old
I kept it until it no longer smelled like Daddy.
You know, granny, I am indeed autistic,
I still eat the same things I did as a kid:
Oatmeal breakfast, mac n' cheese lunch.
I both solemnly and fondly remember.
I will keep our memories, even as an old lady.
I know I am a spoiled child, but still thoughtful.
You loved me anyway, and I am so sorry,
You did things your way, why I slacked a lot.
I love you forever, even if you become another,
If we are to ever be reunited together.
In this life or in the afterlife or another life,
I know we'll meet again, somehow, someday.
I'll think of you when I eat my comfort meals,
These dishes you would always make for me.
Maybe someday, after I meet you again,
We'll have oatmeal for old times' sake.
Dust to ashes, ashes to dust -
old bicycles turn to rust.
The boyhood friends I found -
buried in the ground.
See, my love, autumn is coming.
From the black clouds, raindrops are falling.
My body is aching, my memory is fading.
Inside me, my heart is stalling.
Listen, my love, to the cries in the night,
I'm a simple mortal who puts up a fight.
My story is told by a man who can't talk,
As all my thoughts are lost in the dark.
See, my love, winter is coming!
My blood is so cold, my hands are shaking.
The world is too heavy, my shoulders are weakened,
So let me go, for I am awaited.
Listen, my love, screams from the caves;
People that are dead call me from graves.
Those are my friends from far, far away
That call me in death to rot in the clay.
Improving our status requires hard work.
An abundance of years has made us old.
Majority of school mates have gone on.
And accelerating days increase our speed
Newly reborn by accepting Jesus as my personal savior.
Only as old as we feel.
Liar, liar, pants are on fire
Death has it’s eye on us.
Cozy was not synonymous with old.
Objective in life, is outperforming our expectations.
Death is the payment for our use of space.
Golden years is a misnomer, some are more like rust.
Edifying God always makes our life easier.
Recommend making your peace with God before it’s late.
What am I doing?
I'm waiting to die.
My years are behind me
So, don't ask me why.
When I was young,
It was often said,
You're never too tired;
You can sleep when you're dead.
Now that I'm old
And ready to rest,
I trust in my savior.
My Lord knows me best.
I've journeyed for miles
And the years have flown by.
I leave a life well-lived
So, there's no reason to cry.
I'll stand before God
When he calls me home.
Pleased to wrap up
My life with a poem.
A mind confined to a screen
running on fumes and caffeine
Sight, smells, sounds, sterile become
old age, like unto death, her victims numb
In the beginning two lovers were born
In the campus parking lot behind the student union
They clung together for 60 years
Until one day my wounded bird knew
Her broken hip would not allow her to fly again
I was too old and weak to pick her up off the floor
When she fell...she said she wanted to go to a nursing home
Where strong young girls could do what I could not
It's where old people go to die, nobody gets out of there alive
Once a week I drive there to bring candy and other treats to her bed
And news from our empty house that I share with our old girl calico cat
It's the beginning of the end
D.C. Jordan
no blink, no bluff—
just rust-bitten bikes
on a gravel road,
grip slipping, brakes optional.
we called it honing our craft,
we didn’t dodge.
we needed the crash—
proof we meant it,
authentication we weren’t just
trading truths for dopamine
and DMs.
some bicycles
are built to survive
impact.
mine wasn’t one of them.
Wind chill ice pick flails “perma” stone,
rough storm weatherer’s bleak graveside moan!
Hello Darkness My Old Friend
This world is full of .
Go some place off the grid.
Don’t waste time searching for me.
Time to return to the grave.
I didn’t ask to be here.
Sometimes you just want to disappear.
Hello darkness my old friend.
Soon we will meet again.
The dead will wait for me.
The world is full of hate in the darkness you see.
Move on 6 feet under.
Don’t even bother.
It’s such a waste of time.
Work yourself to death for a dime.
The grave is open for more.
Cover me up with dirt.
I am on mywayout.
I’m ready to go with no doubt.
Don’t shed a tear for me.
Crawl into the hole with lightning.
The sky rains blood.
Move on, I’ve had enough.
Take me under.
Another soul lost forever.