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Angela Sneddon Poem
sitting watching the world go by,
wonder what happens when we die,
do we go to heaven above,
or stay in the ground covered in dirt,
do our ghosts walk around,
or do they visit your home town,
will not know till we pass,
this is a question I have always asked,
is heaven a place that is real,
or are our souls for god to steal,
we may haunt the ones we love,
just to show them were not covered in dirt,
do we die then come back alive,
so many years and do not know why,
we may have visited our past,
seeing if our life's were a blast,
does our spirits move around,
pick us up when we are down,
looking after us in the way we go,
questions or answers we could have found,
lets hope its not soon we go,
staying alive as far as we can go,
doing things that we all love,
as we look in the heavens above,
I hope we can come back as a ghost,
and visit the ones that we love most,
and hope to say that I am here,
and answer the questions that we want to hear,
I hope I am not the only one,
that asks these questions one by one,
and sit outside all day long,
wondering why life goes on,
this is the way It may be told,
passing away and being a holy ghost,
and with this love all I ask is why,
to hurt our loves when we die,
lets sit and say a little prayer,
and hope the answers are out there,
gazing the stars and moon light,
and this is where I say good night,
Copyright © Angela Sneddon | Year Posted 2019
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