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Death
February 23, 2012
His cold hand knocks at my door
Beckoning me to come outside
“Come quickly” he implores
“For you surely cannot hide”
“Who are you?” My feeble voice shakes
My eyes fill with tears
“It is death” his voice quakes
Confirming my worst fears
“I will not come to you!” I cry
“But you have no choice” says he
“Tonight you must die,”
“So please come with me.”
With a life worth of regrets
My hand reaches the door
Welcoming death
I’m heard from no more
© Emma J., Tuck, GA
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