Waiting To Cross Over
Red plump and smells tempting
take a bite
it is bitter to the tongue
how could you know
as you spit it out
Walk away
leave it alone
and let it be
let it free
Music sounds
Dancing all around
Onlookers look
their mind is took
Isn’t this the end of time
Those who are happiest look forward to crossing
But the bitter will despair
They have no place there
By: Roger Harkness
08/04/09