Sweet Dead Friend

Sweet Dead Friend

A Poem by Gypsie

 

Oh, how I could kill you,

Let me ponder the ways.

Life for you means nothing

I could just shorten your days.

 

It would be easy

To just stop your heart.

It could be sleazy

I could play a good part.

 

For your breath to depart

It wouldn’t take much.

To kill you softly

Just a quick little touch.

 

Your end is quite near

Not much to be said.

It is very clear

You’re best when you’re dead.

© 2012 Gypsie


My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register




Featured Review

This is an interesting sort of poem. I did like it and I liked how its shortness showed the anger I imagine you were feeling when you wrote this. :) The only part that seemed off to me was the second stanza, it felt to me as if the rhymes were a bit forced, especially with the word sleazy. But overall, I would say this was a good poem. :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

This was funny and interesting at the same time, truly enjoyed...

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Gypsie

10 Years Ago

Thank you my friend. It always makes me smile.
A. Amos

10 Years Ago

I like your mind and sharp wit and your most welcome
I love this short and simple almost humorous expression of inner thought.

Well penned!

Posted 12 Years Ago


This is an interesting sort of poem. I did like it and I liked how its shortness showed the anger I imagine you were feeling when you wrote this. :) The only part that seemed off to me was the second stanza, it felt to me as if the rhymes were a bit forced, especially with the word sleazy. But overall, I would say this was a good poem. :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

211 Views
3 Reviews
Rating
Added on July 12, 2011
Last Updated on July 10, 2012

Author

Gypsie
Gypsie

Spokane, WA



About
Looking for something with substance; something that fills the senses, drawing you in, wrapping you within its web ever so gently, unknowingly. Then by the time you realize it, you have been entangled.. more..

Writing
Called Home Called Home

A Poem by Gypsie


Twenty Four Twenty Four

A Poem by Gypsie