I often see
nice looking coffins
then wonder to myself
if death looks the same -:
I’ve never been on a dying bed
nor have I ever looked death
straight in the eye,
but I’ve seen enough
to tell otherwise -:

Life tend to make no sense;
I mean, I’m here writing poems
whilst she’s reciting all my poems
to her new lover –
I never thought I’d write
about her in past tense;
I hope I come back to my senses
and see life in every none – sense;
I mean, nonsense
is part of life too,

As I embrace
all there is to life,
including the sudden reincarnation;
I’ve moved past from the past,
that had me love struck;
that held me stuck
deep within the roots
of our love -: