we all die, we all are mune to the dangers of the world and not all of us are lucky.
Day by day
Month by month
Year by year
Decade by decade
A millennia by millennia
Seeing the time pass by no one sees the earth change by much
The longest is 121
Surely no one has lived long enough to see a full change in the tide
Oh no, no one lives that long
After all we are just humans who die at the ages of 70 to 121.
If your unlucky you die young and beautiful who looks as pure and innocent as a white rose being laid on her grave.
Oh dying young would mean your casket would be beautiful till you rot six feet under and everything decays.
This is a personal poem, i lost someone but i wasn't the only one, this is a poem to everyone who has lost someone who knows and understands the pain and truth to it. not everyone will understand, but i do.