I want nothing to do with this evil thing But it is a part of life His cloak he holds near so he won't feel the sting He is about to give, sharp as a knife. His cloak is his disguise So he can't feel the emotions he rips apart He is always there for you when you die Picking up the pieces to add to his deathly cart. He really seems happy in his awful work Using his cloak to hide Watch out! He always lurks Waiting to tear down someone's pride. The grim reaper as we know him Making each of us miserable at times He don't care if he goes out on a limb He has no feelings, this awful thing hits us on a whim. The cloak of death such a cruel thing But what can we do? There is a time in life, his awful song we shall all sing And his cloak he holds near never having any fears.
I would say 8 out of 10. Very nice. And how convienent that I stumbled upon this poem on halloween! *Creepy...*lol
