Modnar shit and other crap

Poetry Corner!

one

a pleasant life, a better death.
to mourn a loss that’s never left
is wicked now more than I thought
for things ne’er turn out as its wrought
don’t sadden now, or better, ever
for it goes on after forever
so when the time for you comes too
we will meet then and start a new
the flowers weep at lover’s lost
a timeless nuisance, but our paths crossed
for long a time to wait will end
we will return as one again.