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Pensive Thoughts on Sofa

A poem

By Gopali GhoshPublished 7 years ago 1 min read
1
We are dust 

There's something we share in

Common with all creatures, all kin

Whether by blood or by ties of love

Or piety or anything else above

Or below. And that is death - we all must

Await for this finale - before we are dust

And returned to whence we came. But why

Can it not be now? In this drowsy evening,

Leaving behind sorrow, pain, grieving

Over words harsh, sharp, cutting - virulent

With poison, deadly with hate, arrogant

Self-righteous mien complacent;

Smiles slipping easily its face - self-absorbent.

Why not die now in this slow hour

Unsung, unheard, unheralded like a flower,

Shedding its last petals in the failing light,

And become with sighing delight,

One with Death

fact or fictionsad poetry
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