Grave Digger

I keep digging,

This hole deeper and deeper.

It feels like an avalanche

In slow motion

Is coming hard down on me...

There is no time anymore

For this nonsense!

I don't make sense,

But at least I still

Have my common sense..

But yet I dig,

Can't even complete

A complete thought.

But isn't this Art?

Is this not Poetry?

My lovely therapy?

It's my way of coping...

I'm trying to be positive!


But this rope keeps tightening.

This noose is so constricting

How will I die?

Be it by:

Baseball bat, hammer or "gat"?

I guess it'll be my grave digger's


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I don't ever want to be cremated. Why? Why... Burning....

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Afzal Shauq's picture

really a master piece poem you added today... I read it so many times and enjoyed... the idea is very new and impressive ... it has multiple meanis and readers can get their own ideas... this is the sign of a universal poetry that you are really doing... well done my sweet and very talented friend... pray for your success...