Chauncey's Book of Odd Poems

Number Seventeen

Number Seventeen- "I Sit"

--

I sit

Crowded and cramped

I sit

Sweaty and damp

I wait

For judgement impending

I wait

For gavel cracking

I die

Inglorious sleep

I die

No one to weep

I lie

Buried in rocks

I lie

Like a log

Heaven

Mourns not

Heaven

Too far to touch

I weep

Bittersweet tears

I weep

Yet no one hears