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One bright morning

In the middle of the night.

Two dead boys

Got up to fight.

Back to back

They faced each other,

Pulled their knives

And shot each other.

A deaf policeman

Heard the noise,

And came and killed

The two dead boys.





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This poem remind's me of those closest to me who have died and have gone,hopefully in my mind's eye,to a better place in the Universe,I hope against hope every day for that peace of mind





Tyger, Tyger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?



In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?



And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?



What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?



When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears,

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?



Tyger, Tyger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Come in the dead of night,



seeing if my families alright,



bag slung across my chest,



trying desperately,



feverishly to clean up my mess,



my head's full of thought's,



emotions and bright,wondrous thing's,



it set's my blood rushing to see a great many thing's..



seeing my family one last time,



I turn out the light and go through just fine,



3 in the morning the clock reads red,



numbers are just another phase,



that seems utterly impossible to me,



as I walk out the door,



the sun not yet up,



the moon half hidden beneath a cloud,



I walk among the dead on the midnight shore,



look how they sleep,



underneath the ground,



in graves that they tend to keep,



I am still alive,



yet my heart does not beat,



my blood rushes through,



like the evergrown tree..



I walk all the while looking down at my feet,



blood courses through my veins,



like sugar given to a babe as a sweetened treat,



I hold my breath to see who comes for me,



to take me home,



beyond the hill's of this once beautiful country,



bag slung over my shoulder once more,



I look around and wonder full in galore,



what makes us human,



as we so willingly survive,



amongst the people who say they love us,



but cannot give us what we most long for....



love,



hate,



lingering emotions,



the sun has risen and I have taken my leave,



praying for someone,



one who will listen,



who will care,



to come and take me home,



to the evergreen field's and beyond...