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A Perfect Death...
Folder:
Perfect Series: Perfect Poetry Life was like a shooting star, quickly
It past in front of his eyes. She wished
One simple wish, to die in his sleep.
Enter eternal slumber or until the number
Is called. Awake in glory,"sorry I can't
Say". Laying on his death bed, the journey
Is over for the perfect stranger that
Rambled through streets of insecurity.
With time and patience found his perfect
Match. All accomplishments became victories.
In the end died a perfect death.
Very good poem. I liked the play of words with it. You write very well! Keep up the good work!