Showing posts with label Death Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death Poems. Show all posts

Sunday, February 13, 2011

When I Am Dead - Death Poem By Don Allan Dinio

When I am dead

Will you cry a tear for me when I am dead?
Will you tell someone that you miss me?
Will it affect your life at all and feel the loss of my company
Will you think of me, the good times and we’ve had, the laughs
We shared, the secrets we kept, and the challenges in life
We tried to solve?
Don’t feel bad about me. I had the good times of my life.
I tried the best I can and enjoyed the people I have around me,
Closes to me and related to me. They made me of who I was!
I took life as challenging… changed me for the better,
Failures were hard to take, mistakes we all do make,
But they are the best things in life to learn from.
Don’t feel bad for me because I left this world so suddenly because…
I was ready. I led my life from day to day.. I lived my life
As though it was my last. So it came to be.. so be it, I lived my life fully…
The rest is just history and should be fond memories!
Don’t mourn for me and lead a life a solitary.. the best in life is
Finding the best in people and people finding the best in you.
Your mourning won’t do me no good… but will just make you lonely,
Detached and inconsolable just because of me.
Take all the sincere condolences and bury them with me,
Always think of the good times we had… not the day,
I left you behind. Give other people a chance to know you…
Just like you did me, eventually, you will find another me!




Death In Shilling Poem By Saju Abraham

Death in shilling

It was one of those oratories on Sundays,
Walking down the narrow roads,
And into the foot of the hill
Borrowed backpack on my back
Full of cheap magic items
I was full of energy
But I was in for a strange Sunday
The poor hut an oratory
With its broken door shut
Bore a deserted look
I looked around for some life
And then I felt the tug at my sleeve
A tiny ward of mine looked up
Pulling me by the hand to the cliff
I saw a great crowd feasting
Everyone eating and drinking
Most of them red in the mouth
Betel leaves and limestone
Lots of laughter and banter
Lots of food and drinks in the hearse
Decorated with the best of shilling daisies
When I saw the old man laid out,
In his three-piece Sunday suit
I felt liberated unsure from what
Death primitively celebrated.