Death, you are a slimy bastard .
Death, you Bitch Queen from Hell.
I am not shattered.
I dare not listen for your bell.
You have stolen more than one friend
You have taken one too many kin
True I do not comprehend,
that in the end, you must win
But listen Death,
you had no RIGHT!
Did you have to use much stealth,
bravo you showed such might.
Ten in one year,
This is too much to bear!
Are you even pretending to hear!
Do you even care?
You are exposed,
go your Way
I will remain composed,
come what may.
Authors Note
Remember to thank those you care for.
Let them know you care and are grateful for them.
Death is always lurking in the shadows and can
come at any time.
This poem is dedicated to all I have lost in the last year.
This poem may appear in other publications.
Respectfully Bruce Curle
About the Creator
Bruce Curle `
A Fifty something male that enjoys writing short stories, scripts and poetry. I have had many different types of work over my lifetime and consider myself fairly open minded and able to speak on many topics.
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More stories from Bruce Curle ` and writers in Poets and other communities.
When the Robots Took My Job
This is for RM Stockton's Write Club prompt for the month of April: AI Please allow me to vent. For "college," I went to a scam school that is now closed. We were promised internships that were never spoken of again after admissions, and we were promised help finding jobs. The first time I went to the career counselor's office, she was completely frazzled. She had no idea what to do with us, the film majors. The second time I visited her office, I let her know that I'd found myself a job, and she was visibly relieved.
By Rebekah Conard4 days ago in Journal
Comments (1)
I'm so sorry for your loss. I could feel the sorrow and grief in your poem