death

another poem i did a while ago it was 4 a grade
the teacher said i should be in theaphy i very morbid & this is not that morib
tell me wat u think please

death is here

death is always aroud
here or there
then and now
you cant avert it you can't run from death
we all hav our own clock tick tock
death smell fears
some enbrace it while others reject it
what will become of me when im dead & gone most ask
others wanna go out with a bang
from the worst to the most famous
we all want to leave our mark on
this planet we call earth tick tock your clock is ringing
what will become of me when im gone.will i be
dead to the world
or will millions read my words & feel my pain
i will live on.that is true immorality.
not fangs spells fancy drinks or shiny jewels
no true immorality is words its self
its as if word never exitsed