The Good Die First

Poetry

The good die first, the dead die next

misery at the hands of a failure

And an eternity to rest

The ocean is calm and dark waters are still

voices are inside my brain and the voices are shrill

I am thinking of an afternoon, the one by the beach

this noose is tightening and the sky closer than I can reach

what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger they said

but what about that does kill you, an entire mankind was misled

I see the floating palm leaves, and the breeze was a mood

its probably the end, my carefree callous interlude

sharks swim deep, and deeper they swim

the beach doesn’t kill you

and it doesn’t make you stronger than him

I am pondering over yesterday,

this feeling is a sickness and hope is out of reach

the good die first, and first when I was by that beach.