Death - The Gift of Life

There’s nothing certain but death
Nor beyond nor before
We are born and live to die
Death the only gift of life

We fret; make noise, shout and cry
We skid from hills to valley and back
Get torn among home, work and friends
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

We fight, we scream, we spurn
We step on each others’ toe
All to achieve and amass
There’s nothing certain but death
Death the only gift of life

Walk we straight with pride
Look we people in the eye
Seldom do we stop and stoop

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poem by Thomas PJ New Delhi
Added by Poetry Lover
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