Under
the sky
Alone
I stand
In
the season of Spring
Birds
chirping
Buds
blossoming
And
I think of death
Dead
friends Lost loves
Sucked
up in an Octopus
Filled
with black ink
Of
the poets before me
And
in a harmonious yell
We
all scream
“Let
us out”
Let
us live
Beyond
the earth
Up
in the sky
Above
my rotted corpse