The Sigh Of Death
By sharmeka
I hear the sigh of death escaping from a crack in a colorless eye and it hears me listening flinching the mortician laughing hysterically with his needless squirting promises of beauti into black veins already knowing death for death is black and black is deeper than the night black frozen in fright I hear the pucker of lips as they kiss the tip of a joint one last high before they say good bye to last moments cry, before there bodies dried like laundry on a tight line the air is wide alive on the otherside of the lock where me and my people are stacked like blocks slid on a table to be shocked and cocked until we look so nice after 3 days and 3 nights on ice when they open the cage we spill out like rice See death has a price We will we tagged and the world will see us as another hand hanging from the body bag and you know what's sad? only in death do some of us wear clean rags colored in deaths red and the eternal blackness in which we wed ©written a long time ago after watching the news Written November 18th, 2001 © on Nov 18 2001 09:41 AM PST 0 • 10
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"I hear the sigh of death ..."