The Grim Reaper Poem by Darren Harris

A problem shared is a problem halved,
Or talking helps, that’s what they say,
But no matter how much I talk,
My problems never go away,
There here to stay,
Stuck in a whirling vortex,
Created by a mind that’s forever falling,
Down and down,
Deeper and deeper,
I’m waiting to be rescued by the Grim Reaper,
Waiting to be saved from this life of obscurity,
A life full of negativity,
But between you and me,
Death will set me free,
But do you know who I feel sorry for?
I feel sorry for all you so called NORMAL people out there,
Because you’re all too blind to see,
That your lives are full of hallucinations,
And figments of your own imaginations,
Delirium, delusions,
You’re all full of confusion,
Mystification,
Disorientation,
You’re all going to die,
So take that into consideration,
There’s no deliberation
Death’s messenger is on his way,
To take your souls now any day,
And there’s no time to fight,
Give up your plight,
Because the Grim Reaper has got you all in his sights.