The worst phase of my life.

The ragpicker didn’t have enough money to treat her sick kid which led to death.

A poem debating the end of a life, and the feelings it creates regarding cremation versus burial…

Some are thrown to vultures
others are burnt into powered rust.

Another pooowem.

A man’s last wishes for his remembrance after he leaves the world.

Bills are bad enough but some mail you just don’t want.

On the internet none is permitted to address anyone person in particular, its unbecoming.
this poem is a sequel to my poem
DISTURBING.