“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”


