PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Today I reach the pearly gates,

so happy I finally reach this stage,

yet the guardian of the gates,

ask me for my age and name,

he checks his books,

flips through pages marked with red stains,

ask me to wait as he makes his way,

looks at me eye to eye,

ask me how I reached this place,

with my own strength or with aid?

Why are my hands dirty with red soil?

How come the tears are dried on my cheeks?

Wait here please,

I think there is an error on that book of his,

as I sit in this white cloud,

my life reflects in the mirror in front,

I see my life,

once again the tears fall,

my heart breaks apart,

I may have evil thoughts,

his gates seem to echoed,

my knuckles are scraped!

Is this a place for me,

everyone is calmly going in,

while I

wait here with my mind trying to be clean,

an outcast of this place,

should I wait for his passage,

or should I hear his rejection,

should I enter his white palace,

or forever settled in my dreams,

calmly creating ideas,

I should wait, for what ever judgment,

at least I had the honor

to observed the pearly gates

-che