Too young to take that final breath
Trapped within the reach of death
A life that was never really shown
Where love remained the great unknown.
But youth demands a life that’s full
Before life rewrites its one true rule
That death takes all the hands it grasps
Caring nothing of who takes those final gasps.
No questions allowed—of why be it me,
That waits beneath death’s spreading tree?
With roots as gnarled and ancient as time
And no branches to hold and upwardly climb.
Life was precious but death clutched hard
To the girl who gave no just regard
To consequences of a drug-ridden head
On the day she died and left me for dead.
© 2019, Daniel Kemp All rights reserved.