Saturday, July 7, 2012


No other thing can express life than death.
What he had gone through and what he could have done
Is what we think of when someone leaves Earth.
We think of the things that we could have done;
Thinking whether or not to blame ourselves,
‘Cause we want to blame ourselves; none would help.

Maybe fate really has to take the life.
If so, why take it now? And why take him?
Maybe it’s an escape that helps him hide
From the pain, and everything that is grim.
If he went to heaven, why is this sad?
Because it is an unfinished story.

I thought that he was on his chair inside,
But it’s empty, and he’s no longer there.
I thought that he was in the house tonight,
But I no longer find him anywhere.
Where does a person go when he is dead?
He’s supposed to be here like he had said.

Like a story that ended abruptly.
Every birth and just every beginning
Makes the best hopes and the greatest dreams.
Many dreams get broken in life’s ending;
That’s why death gets most of us heartbroken
Like a poem that will suddenly end.

Clarion Write-a-Thon 2012
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