The end of me

“Just because I am getting older, doesn’t mean this is the end of me, right?” Gun Roswell

The end of me

The wrinkles are there, for all. to stare
All the money and even technology, spent
Just gave me, a brief moment lent
And now, all the loud music, is fading fast
I truly don’t know, how much longer, I can last
Hanging on, to this, self made thread
Even if I know, it’s just a waste
All this effort to try to remain, just the same
A pretty face, with enough of a brain
Alas, nature will take its course
No matter how much you push and try to force
In the end, only the flowers remain
Pretty, and red, even, if I, myself, am dead

There really is no lesson nor pun intended
Just a short rant of life, even if pretended
To live for ever and ever and never die
Well, anyways, at least they can say, I tried!

Posted as a challenge, poetry prompt “Death”

Is this, truly, the end?

“Death, is just the beginning, right?” Gun Roswell

Is this, truly, the end?

This will be the death of me”
The low hanging leaf said, to the other one left
“After all, it’s about time, for me, as it is already fall
And, truly, I can no longer stall
The inevitable circle, which is that of life
No matter how hard, I try to put up a fight”

There was no response to the question
As the last of its companion
Was already floating down towards its destination
Jumping in, without, any kind of hesitation

After a moment of contemplation
Somehow, making the question mute in comparison
Then, slowly, gently, the now colourless leaf
Fell onto the waiting ground, without no one to grief
After all, it was the end, of the season
So hanging on, well, there really was no reason

Posted as a challenge, poetry prompt “Death”

Focus (two)

Posted in The Daily Post : Focus

“You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus”
Mark Twain

Focus

Spending the late time watching
Out of the window a glimpse catching
Behind the safety of the glass
Hoping the rain pour would not last

Suburban streets dark and damp
Not even the brightest street lamps
Could brighten up the lonely night
The storm was now, in full mode of fight