R.I.P (From my book)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Following the death of my mother I witnessed the death of 15 family members/friends in less than 18 months. Every other day was an invitation to a funeral. I happened to also lose an extremely good friend of mine. This is a poem dedicated to my friend.

Submitted: January 22, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 22, 2012



An early age got me oriented towards graves-

Rest in tears the soul of a brave,

But sometimes I wonder if I’m living sin,

Advancing wounds prior to bitter medicines.

I try to fall in love but survivors hardly seen,

Seeing my heart silent, wedged in between

salty glimpses, eternally plagued with misery,

Disguised in a moment’s poetry:

Can’t believe iniquitous dreams seem real,

Satisfied with sorrow waiting for time to heal

I rest my corpse in caskets breathing dreary

While contorted methods see me a victim weary,

But can I deny those I see rush to early tombs?

Crying the patience of a sacrificed womb;

Now, I’m cursed with deaths around me

Left for Devilish grins to surround me,

And though my hunger to outlive danger sees

me cry prayers, faith leaves with those deceased;

R.I.P young brother, but this is no time for secrets

For those that refugee in tears, often repeat this:

Manipulating quaking voices to serve my conscience

I seek to calm the choice of unwanted violence,

In a position eerie I try to escape these sour times

Whilst letting certainty drag me into nights sublime,

And even though I’m a reflection away from satisfaction

I wonder why the world has only to offer teary attraction,

Mental distractions now reek my days with grief

Though they say “souls live forever, only bodies leave”


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