The Path of Death

I walk along the path
not knowing where to go
everybody I see
is someone I already know

They look at me and move on
like they never saw me before
I try to ask them where to go
but they all walk through the door

As they pass by one by one
I realize I'm not really there
they see my lifeless body
and act like they really care

I don't feel any different now
than I did when I had life
still aimlessly wandering alone
except now I have no strife

So I am walking dead
existence in my own mind
searching for the sunshine
but rain is all I find

© Abbye



I love cut flowers, I know they will die after a week or two, but that is plenty long to enjoy them. I don't have a green thumb, so that may be one reason I like them.  I don't really get flowers too often, unless I buy them for myself.

I remember when I was little, maybe 5 or 6, I went into my neighbor's yard and picked all of the flowers around her house and in her garden, so I could give them to adults and make them smile. I didn't know it was wrong until I had to go knock on her door and was told never, ever do that again - and I didn't.

When I think of funerals, I think of all the flowers that are there and wonder if the deceased even liked flowers. I'd rather have the flowers to enjoy while I am alive, but if it makes the griever feel better, I'll take them when I'm dead, too.

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