To This Poem by K.C. Ford
To This
It all comes down to this,
a stone above my head
declaring birth and date of death.
It all comes down to a mound of earth
where mourners stand, but nothing said,
no thought to share or farewell kiss.
It all comes down to emptiness,
the vacant void, the nothingness.
When comes to think of it, that's all it comes down to, The vacant void, the nothingness. Well done!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/22/2024 9:49:24 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I liked this poem- -then I read the poet's snotty comment- -and now I wish he hadn't ruined my experience with his poem by writing his oh-so-superior poet note