Death is what I hold dear, Is death real like we think, Or is it a trip to another place, Leaving the human race. Let me die so I can see, What death will be for me, Wandering the place I see, Or a place that is supreme. Do not put me in a tree, Just burn and divide me, Divide me up into three, two to friends and one to the tree.
Reason for writing:
None given
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View more poems by Blake Linnemeyer Gemini.