If dying was like floating
In the void
Void of all worries
Light as a feather
A murmur in the wind
Of good times gone by.
Gone with the years
Aged to dust
Dust blown into the wind
Scattered into nothingness
I wish I was dead sometimes.
It sounds easier than living
With the weight on my shoulders
Let me float
I’ll be alright.
I haven’t written a poem in years. Sorry if it sucks
sucks a lot less than the poems you didn’t write. thanks, MH.