This was my first poem I had ever written and I wrote it for a teacher that passed away as part of a writing assignment. Little did I no it would get published, it would get put in a book, and I would win numerous awards for it.
It's a flaw of our lives,
It shapes and molds us into it's own.
It hurts and it burns.
It clads happy faces,
To grim looks.
It tears from the very fabric of our being, breaks through what we hid so well.
It makes us think back to the happiest and the gravest moments of our lives.
What is this thing we fear and bury so much,
It's death.
It wears a grim mask.
And clads people that are now pale and their loved ones in black.
The waxy mask of death,
One day it will cover us all.
YOU ARE READING
Dark Poetry
PoetryThis is a book full of poetry I wrote myself, so I ask that no one steals it. As you can tell by the cover and the name it is dark so don't complain that I didn't warn you. Although I still write poetry and will update it, most of the poems are olde...
