I fancy my wake
and wonder who will be there,
and in my undertaking
I fancy someone will speak eulogies
to my body, drained of blood,
in a casket.
The crowd in rows of black and white
holding kerchiefs tapping their cheeks
whispering,
the world lost a wonderful person yet again.
In my thoughts, I think I just want to lay
beneath the ground and rot.
And feel no more.
-照実
YOU ARE READING
Fixed
PoetryWritten in this book are poems for the broken wishing to be fixed or repaired rather than fixed or to remain in the same place. In this collection, you can read the challenge and growth of the author themselves... it there is any. After all, it is...
