You played this game of
do or lose, and lost the game of living to a
pale man called Death-but the rooms
found out and the white face of the
clock found out and stopped time just for you.
A year moved forward (went back) and you are still
a young man trying to find out the meaning of Life,
which is as dim as classical music is to your deaf ears.
Sometimes Death is as close as vivid is to
the red eye, and you just want to cry,
but Death leaves you laying there,
bleeding on the doorstep (strawberry red jam
shoots out of your ears).
Then you live once more-you are
resurrected, let’s say-but the living is
only half-living, and the Death is only half-death.
This game of Life and Death-of "do" or lose-
is a party to get your young
mind to sleep in bed with Eternity:
Eternity as dark as birth,
as dark as a majestic mountain peak against a purple
as dark as her own black Father cursing in his
I wrote the poem like last year but I still think it's cool!