jerome moore


My Death


I am racing with the devil.
on my bicycle through traffic downtown
on a country road.
i will collide
when a bus runs me down
that moment my soul will leave my body
I will see the impact
metal flying
brains inside and out
contortions i never thought i could make
shook horror in the eyes of those real life viewers
crying for the boy who was just mangled in traffic
pieces of hair and teeth like fresh roadkill
My soul will witness it all as my limp lifeless body
is taken from the spectacle i will transcend

and When my soul leaves my body
I will be in a garden of a sweet purple lavender.
simple fragrant and eternal...

Submitted: Friday, August 30, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, September 03, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (My Death by jerome moore )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Soul, John Ugolo Umah
  2. Are You There?, Michael McParland
  3. Another Year, Michael McParland
  4. Another Day, Michael McParland
  5. Another Christmas, Michael McParland
  6. Another, Michael McParland
  7. Anonymous Girl, Michael McParland
  8. I want to be a serial chiller with you, Mandolyn Davidson
  9. Upon A Star, Kewayne Wadley
  10. To my Gurudev...., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

Poem of the Day

poet Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]