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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #1351477
I wrote this a while back. The loss of a loved one is the worst pain.
The reaper came yesterday
Taking my only love away.
The pain I can not describe
My heart is ripped inside.

I wish it were me instead
After all the best part of me is already dead.

Why not take the rest of my soul,
Let my body grow cold,
Make my eyes grow weak,
My poor heart, stop its beat.

Only in death will we once again meet.
I cry night and day
Because the reaper came by yesterday.
© Copyright 2007 KathrineOconner (kathrineo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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