Saturday, November 9

When death comes like a thief in the night,
taking a life, snuffing a light
We hang our heads and wear our mourning clothes
Though, we do not grieve like those who have no hope
The specter of death might give us a fright
But long through our lives we know what is right
Our dead are not dead
They are people asleep
For this very reason there is hope to keep



9 comments:

  1. you paint a dark picture then weave light into the poem... nicely done

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  2. Death is the only certainty in life, yet it always seems to take us unawares.

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  3. yes true, death is inevitable but still hope is there

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  4. like this play of light and shade....

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  5. I don't know if I would have embraced a rhyme schmere here--it seems to box you in a bit. The imagery and the central conceit are both very nice, and I think you would something special without the rhyme.

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    1. I see what you mean. It does make it seem a bit cheesy.

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    2. but perhaps a well-honed "nursery" rhyme (as this is) works, too, by giving the listener/reader a framework with which to admit death into the daily? ~M

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  6. Death comes and in its darkness we try to find any light to help us through

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  7. It comes sudden and sometimes tragic. Speaking of death is morbid and in most circumstances are likely to be avoided!

    Hank

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