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Poem on the inevitability of death. Choriambic: one trochee followed by an iamb. |
| We are machines Waiting in line Time bombs in place Ready to blow Watching your friends Standing in front Facing their ends Ready to go Not much time left Waving goodbye All of them jump All in a row Time bombs explode Ripping apart All your old friends Dead down below Memories fly All 'round your head Thoughts of the dead Seem long ago What happens now? Funny you ask Your time is up You must now go! Body enflamed Cells start ro die Your body corrodes You cry out "NO!" Pleas go unheard Death doesn't stop Rotting your skin Eating your soul Slowly you drop Life burned away Joining your friends Dead down below |
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