Poem-

Some people Love.
Some hate, choking on vile they created.
A few dance in and out,
looking at things that look back.
I like to think, maybe, about a laugh
I didn’t know, then speak it into being.
For the ones who hate without knowing-
That’ll be for them to solve.
Death is but stitch in the side.
It doesn’t end.
But our memory will be there.

-M. Taggart

4 thoughts on “Poem-

  1. “Death is but stitch in the side.”
    Sometimes times aren’t enough and the day is dark, no one knows why. It sure seems like the mind is the only surface that can reflect in any medium.

    Like

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