Categories > Original > Poetry
Last Day
1 ReviewsPoetry
Everyday I feel as if I'm dying a little bit more.
When will this dying stop?
I'm really not sure.
The more I waste life, the more life flies by;
Will I regret this the day that I die?
As I lay in my coffin to be put down to rest,
am I withered and old or looking my best?
"Heaven or hell?", I ask as I die.
I should have asked that while I was still alive.
"Five minutes is all I ask! To ask for forgivness for my sinset tasks!"
I hear a voice whisper in my ear,
soothing, soft and so sincear.
"Five minutes? Sorry, I cannot give. You've had years and years
to ask me to forgive!"
Life ran out. The light grows fade.
The scary thought of what could be my last day.
When will this dying stop?
I'm really not sure.
The more I waste life, the more life flies by;
Will I regret this the day that I die?
As I lay in my coffin to be put down to rest,
am I withered and old or looking my best?
"Heaven or hell?", I ask as I die.
I should have asked that while I was still alive.
"Five minutes is all I ask! To ask for forgivness for my sinset tasks!"
I hear a voice whisper in my ear,
soothing, soft and so sincear.
"Five minutes? Sorry, I cannot give. You've had years and years
to ask me to forgive!"
Life ran out. The light grows fade.
The scary thought of what could be my last day.
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