WHO KNOWS WHERE THE DEAD GOES

 

a wretched and poor soul like mine 

grieve for lives cut short before their prime 

a piece of me taken without consent 

pain has always been constantly present 

the little light in my soul blinks 

despair stares at me then winks 

they know how to get me without stress 

just a little death, I go depressed 

 

when people die, a piece of me dies too

it’s like counting your days when in the loo 

the pain and hurt is a far cry from reality 

I’m soft hearted, that’s my disability 

who knows where the dead goes?

we only know our friends and foes 

time is nothing but a pathetic fraud 

grave and hades are hopelessly bored 

breathe is nothing but a vapor 

what’s more painful than nine months of wasted labor 

an open sore or an infested wound? 

destiny offers no choice, it cares not of your mood 

@talk2leigh

(X & insta)

11:08am

26 Feb 2026