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The Thief

Poetry By: Celsius
Poetry


Tags: Death


A poem about loss.


Submitted:Jul 3, 2012    Reads: 19    Comments: 1    Likes: 2   


I am hated by many and called a thief

I take their teasure, and leave them nothing but grief.

They all fear me, and most try to run, do they think I do this for fun?

Some stand their ground and fight, never backing down.

I love their courage, so I walk away, and let them keep their treasure one more day.

Few call me a friend, I call them: Pain, Sadness, Misery, and Lonliness, they willingly offer their treasure in exchange for an end.

My friends, because of you, I love being a thief.

To those who hate and fear me, I can't help what I do.

Courageous ones, keep fighting, but I'm still coming for you.

Your treasure is life, cherish her always and never take her for granted, because she was there to give you your first breath.

I'll be there to take your last.

Forever,

Death





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