A Poem by Immortal

Why seventeen, I ask.
A random number that comes too fast,
whenever an answer is needed 
and heeded to,
A number that comes only to me
is the double digit number seventeen.

Is seventeen the year of my death,
the last year I draw breath?
Is there a rose to be laid on my grave,
a certain number of flowers I crave,
Please hear my plea,
Number the flowers seventeen.

Maybe seventeen is the year to meet my queen,
Shiny and white with a beautiful sheen,
One that will sing while she cries,
her voice that sounds like the skies. 
And maybe the age she will be,
will be the young age of seventeen.

Or perhaps the number is just that,
a couple integers flat.
A one and a seven next to each other,
Sister and brother.
One and Seven, seven and one.
Seventeen my friend, I am done.

© 2010 Immortal

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well I have the number 26 stuck in my brain. I think we all have a favorite number but not many of us know why. This is a great write about wondering why the number 17 is stuck in your mind. The poem takes you on many different rides of why and I like the diverse scenes you have painted.

Posted 12 Years Ago

Dont we all wonder about our life our future our legacy dont we all want be a fly who watches our own funeral to see who cries the most

Posted 12 Years Ago

This is a great piece. I honestly had to read this because I happen to have a thing for the number 17 as well, other then the fact I was born on the 17th day, but it seems to pop up randomly about in my life...and its always the number I use when being random.

Posted 12 Years Ago

I really like it. i felt like you were talking about how when you become older you try to figure out the relevance of that specific age or number, and it seems like by they time you figure it out the numbers lost its significance and your already moving on and up. well.. at least thats what i got, probably cause i obsess over age. the only problem i have with it is it reminds me im not 17 and now i feel oold :[

Posted 12 Years Ago

I love you

Posted 12 Years Ago

you ought to try 57 sometime, crammed in there, into the universe like too many marbles in a cup. hi ho

Posted 12 Years Ago

You give such mysterious curiosity to a number that would otherwise be random. You say a lot yet give little away. Its a delightfully strange poetic expression that leaves you wanting more in hopes that much will be revealed. Its effective in opening curiosity and the yearning for disclosure. Its very good.

Posted 12 Years Ago

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7 Reviews
Added on September 9, 2010
Last Updated on September 9, 2010



Haiku, HI

Im a musician/not-really-writer who has pipe dreams of everything. Im optimistic about almost every aspect of life and I appreciate a lot. My guitar is my life but so is my voice, couldn't live withou.. more..

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