
The day I turn 21
The world will go on
People will walk past
Whilst I sit quietly
Soaking in the silence
My eyes will watch
Yet no one will notice
And when I grow tired
I will lay still in my casket
Dreaming of movement
There will be no sea of tears
No cloudy rain
Not even a far onlooker
Simply I and a gravedigger
As the shovel pierces dirt
As the dirt hits the casket
I will revel in the weight
Enjoy the creeping darkness
As time passes by
As the day turns to night
My body will rot
And my gravestone will stand
About the Creator
OUT OF PLACE
Writing for fun!


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