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Description
Death comes knocking
On my door today,
Telling me I have
But one day to stay.
And I have my goodbyes to say
To everyone on this world.
I have yet to make
A million dollars,
I have it all, though.
In my head
The words flow endlessly
Into an organized poem,
Where I can be in peace.
My gray hair
Is a wispy cloud on my head,
It feels like leaving now.
Standing on the window sill,
I shout my secrets to the street,
For if a dead man tells no tales
The tales would end with me.
I have a final brush with the reaper
And he tells me it's time to go.
I grasp his cruel bony hand,
And tell him,
"It's all right, you know.
I'm not afraid."
And he turns to me,
But says nothing
Continuing on to some unknown place
And that will be where I spend
The rest of my eternity

Description
Death comes knocking
On my door today,
Telling me I have
But one day to stay.
And I have my goodbyes to say
To everyone on this world.
I have yet to make
A million dollars,
I have it all, though.
In my head
The words flow endlessly
Into an organized poem,
Where I can be in peace.
My gray hair
Is a wispy cloud on my head,
It feels like leaving now.
Standing on the window sill,
I shout my secrets to the street,
For if a dead man tells no tales
The tales would end with me.
I have a final brush with the reaper
And he tells me it's time to go.
I grasp his cruel bony hand,
And tell him,
"It's all right, you know.
I'm not afraid."
And he turns to me,
But says nothing
Continuing on to some unknown place
And that will be where I spend
The rest of my eternity