Death Creeps In

#30in30 Poem 10 of 30

Death Creeps In

I hate the permanence of death
Its ever present presence
Its stench distant, but ever closer
Creeping in like a fog

Like the faint light
Hours before sunrise

Time is being cheated
Minutes and seconds and years
Slip through my fingers
Like blood from a slit wrist

I struggle to seal the wound
To save my life
To have more time
For me. For them.


Will Brown

Will Brown is a poet, blogger, and a scanner of all things new. He also currently blogs at Help Desk Helps where he discusses tips and issues affecting the help desk professional.

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