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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Death >> ID #1628389 |   |
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I see a man in the corner
looking dark and mysterious. I do not think anyone can see him. I go home and he appears again. How did he know where I lived? He is in my bedroom. Should I go in there? I go into my bedroom. He is lying on my bed. I lie down beside him. He kisses me softly then floats above me. I feel like I am floating, too. The man is death. Softly and sweetly, death comes to me. Note:My inspiration for this poem were the Emily Dickerson poems I had read.
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