Dealing with Death
Learn more about other poetry terms
Another Black Kippah
The trowel makes a swoosh sound,
as it enters the bucket.
Scooping up a sample,
To be set freefrom this guilt,
I couldn't helpbut cry for you
Every day and nightfor I couldn't save you
From the clutches of Death.I only want that to be rewinded
Alone, I am unaided,
forsaken, and without a chance.
I am struggling, but still not faded;
I am striving to maintain my stance.
And yet, death draws ever nearer-