Death Will Always Win Poem by Jacob Hill

Death Will Always Win



When you think of death you say-
Death please go, just go away
But you see, my love so sweet
Death has a job- and a quota to meet-
So as he swings you yell out and say-
Please oh please, is there any other way
But my dear, he's come for you
Painful thought- but ever so true
And yet he takes you as you say-
Please oh please not today
And look through those sorrowful tears
Your words have reached his cold boney ears
Now with his attention on you, you say-
I'm not ready to die oh please let me stay
And with a grin, and devilish look
Across your face his scythe he took
So now your dead, no words to say-
Cold on the ground now you do lay 

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