The clouds are heavy,
my room is lonely.
The place is painted by grey,
the coldness of the day touches them all.
The room is dark; with a red light bulb
around my golden coffin.
People are coming with faded memories.
People are crying; Tears are falling.
Here I am lying..
Seeing everyone's grief.
Waiting for my last day of my funeral.
Waiting for you to come and mourn.
Waiting for the heaven's gate open.
As if it will open...
A contest entry
- Planning Your Funeral by ea.
700 points, ended September 1, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think guys??? I know that the words ar not that good..hehe..sorry for that...anyway, please post your thoughts about this piece..
Comments
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This paints a heavy picture of your final moments, as if you are not quite dead yet and still worrying about how it is all unfolding, which used to be the case with some prematurely declared deaths - the people would rise right up in their coffins and breath again after being in a comatose state sometimes, which is one reason embalming came into fashion, believe it or not!
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