One of my earliest poems ever published, in January 2008.
Death, where everyone lives on
Is where the people who die spend
Some time in its surroundings
And where they will assess when
They were good or bad
When they were still alive
But not all of them could be assigned -
What would happen to the ones in the middle?
They fight for themselves
On where to land a spot somewhere
In heaven or hell
Somehow, they got lost for words
Like they were still alive
Is it just me? Or are they really like that?
Whatever their motives be
They finally get sent to
Their own choosing
Now, when after death would that happen?
With many in the world, how are they assigned
With spots filling up
And they have no expiration dates
How come they’ve finally made it?
‘Course, there’s someone for this challenge
Whoever he or she is, it’s up to them
To see who will meet their criteria
It’s up to them to see if they will admit us all to the sky above
I gather ‘round to see all the innocent
Looking upon us
And, let them tell us that life is just a temporary affair.
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