Dread
is when you're dead,
and no one cares.
No one mourns.
No one glances back.
No one wears black.
No one wears black.
No one cries--not even a bit.
No one gives a shit
that you're gone.
That you've passed through life,
and brought no laughter,
made no one more strong,
done nothing but wrong...
That is dread.
No friends,
no family,
no photos to speak of the you
that once was--
to vanish without making
even a temporary ripple...
that's dread.
This was written right off the cuff, and it shows. However, I was intrigued by Mama Zen's poem, followed the link, and Shazam! It led back to Shay and her poetry prompt. Perhaps my wretched mess will prod someone else to try it... and soar.
Last night my family spent most of the evening debating over the existence of God/a soul, the meaning of life and other serious and somber topics, so Mama Zen's poem was an easy segue into this POS poem...
Last night my family spent most of the evening debating over the existence of God/a soul, the meaning of life and other serious and somber topics, so Mama Zen's poem was an easy segue into this POS poem...
