The day I died

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  • Dark Poetry

    The day I died

     It was just like any other day. No one knew I was there.They talked over me and gave me that confused stare.I was lifted into the ground without any comfort without any sound.
    by-Marie Hardnett

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    marievegan’s Poems (9)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    How could he be in heaven when he killed me? 2 03/28/2010
    My mind is a blind slate. 1 03/28/2010
    The day they took me away. 0 03/28/2010
    Who am I out there? 0 08/26/2009
    The day I died 0 08/26/2009
    He was Just out of Jail 0 08/26/2009
    He didn't see me. 0 08/26/2009
    Mrs. Tar is dead 0 08/26/2009
    I see the Light. 0 08/22/2009
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