skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
Amy's Poetry
Friday, June 4, 2010
IT
Whether male or female
we can't escape it.
Whether healthy or sick,
it is always there.
It looms above us,
swelling like a storm cloud,
until one day, we receive it.
IT, my friend, is death.
11/8/1989
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Followers
Blog Archive
▼
2010
(26)
▼
June
(26)
Love? (To: J.G.)
Untitled
Ode to My Socks
Ice Cream Man
Forgotten
You Jerk (To: J.R.K.)
Anticipation
A Track Star
Today (To: C.B.)
Once I Walked
IT
Finding Hell
The Silent Sound of a Hold
Untitled (but strange)
Poetry On a Batch Header
Even Though My Heart Belongs To Him (To: B.M.)
Your Eyes (To: J.D.)
Sounds
Drip Drops
And I'll Love You Forever (To: S.C.)
Fourth Grade Blues
The Very First (To: R.S.)
You Change (To: B.L.)
Let The Secrets Out
Somehow
First and foremost
About Me
amy
View my complete profile
No comments:
Post a Comment