Death, My Dear Old Friend
Can you tell me
what it feels like,
to be afraid of death?
I do not know
what it's like
to fear death.
I am not scared.
Why should I be?
I am nothing
If I die
Nothing would change
NO tears would be shed
No one would care
No one would notice
So why should I fear death?
Others don't value my life
And I certainly don't
People think I'm happy!
They believe this mask I wear!
They believe all my bullsh*t!
I have no fear
Death is my friend!
And I welcome him with open arms!
So can you tell me
What is fear?
What is death?
Why should I fear death?
Why should I care?
Am I even important?
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Comments about this poem (Death, My Dear Old Friend by David Zhukov )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
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