For it takes the smile from the gayest face

It erased the color from the clothes worn

Death the competitor, life is the race

Pray it does not come knocking at your door

Salty rain falls, the dead goes underground

Other times, undertaker throws the match

For souls that are lost, peace can not be found

Salty rain falls, your loved one turns to ash

By the chapel, you see rows of flowers  

The young rest under the tombstones quite small

Some of the tombstones as tall as towers

Nor how big or small, we mourn for them all

            We pity Death for wanting so many friends

            For a wasted dash, will be one’s true end…

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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