by Christopher Shin

So many questions yet
so little time to get them
answered in the frail body.
You stand against the stary
night on top of a grim hill.

Yet all I can do is admire
the power that you wield
with your dark locks and
pale bone white skin,
like fresh snow on a mountain side.
If only you could sit a while,
and have some tea.

If only you could stay a while,
and explain to me my purpose.
You're dark eyes seem sullen
with a sadness of my ignorance.
I know you can not give me the

I know that I have to figure it
out by myself in the end.
I just wish you would understand
the frustration in my head.
It hurts so many times when I
think about what I should be doing.

It hurts because I want to do what
I think is right in this life,
because you only live it once.
I feel so lost without any answers

I feel so empty cause you seem
to smile a familiar smile with
your black umberella and that Ankh
around your swan like kneck.
Sometimes I wish I could be near you,
and empty the veins in my arms.

Sometimes I wish that you could just
talk to me in my darkest hours.
Other times I wish you would just
give me the answers.


Author's Note: A poem of a painting by Chris Bachalo of Death

Posted on 12/05/2003
Copyright © 2022 Christopher Shin

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