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This is the place to search for a death poem for that special person.
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#40 Image
I sit in my closet
rapped up in a ball,
going through old letters
containing so many secrets,
reading old notes
that were so close to being taken up by teachers,
looking through pictures
that were left to be forgotten,
trying to forget the memories
that still haunt me in my sleep,
a familiar face reminds me of so much,
I had her buried in my mind
before the dirt even covered her casket,
I should have gone too,
I was supposed to be with her
when she died,
I come across this note,
her named signed at the bottom,
oh, the memories we had,
still overcome by the last one,
she shouldn't have been lying on that gurney,
covered with all those machines,
they were supposed to save her,
instead I killed her
in my mind,
a cold chill ran down my spine,
I had the feeling of being watched,
and when I turned,
the image of that familiar face . . .
"And nothing can we call our own but death
And that small model of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings." W. Shakespeare
"And what the dead had no speech for, when living,
They can tell you, being dead: the communication
Of the dead is tongued with fire beyond the language of the living." T.S.
Eliot
"While man is growing, life is in decrease;
And cradles rock us nearer to the tomb.
Our birth is nothing but our death begun." Edward Young
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"Men are never really willing to die except for the sake of freedom:
therefore they do not believe in dying completely." Albert Camus
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