Death is at my door knocking relentlessly
Pounding with his cold bony fist,
Waiting for my uncertain reply
I cannot think but he insists.
I hear the noise deep in my soul
Should I answer the unwanted call?
Or turn and go out the door
Forget about him, everything and all?
The pounding is getting more persistint,
The tears are falling from my eyes.
My lips part slowly to tell him to leave,
But all that escapes is a mournful cry.
"I CANNOT DO THIS" I scream so very loud,
My mind`s a whrilwind of thoughts.
Each one never leaving but arriving,
Each time tried but never caught.
My shaky hands reach the front door,
And I open my once before closed eyes.
Taking a deep breath I swing it open,
Only to find that I`ve already died.

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nice poem keep up the good job

feelin dat...good imagery...nice word usage...keep dat comin...peace

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