Simple Verse. No.4 - When I Died Comments

I lived poor and died poor. No obituary written Nowhere a black flag fluttered No one grieved No bells tolled No prayers recited, To still my departed soul! .... touching beginning with universal truth. This beautiful poem is so didactic. Nice step.

Death and its aftermath, common thoughts of many.. O God, now that I'm one with the sod that covers me... beautifully depicted here, I also wrote something like this some time back. A poet imagines how he will be missed after death... but nothing of that sort happens, written in two parts, can't remember the title, and when,

My body when swiftly lowered to the pit And as everyone left to join the rage of life, I pondered, how on this Earth The distinctions of rank Extend down unto dust And follow one like a faithful mongrel - - -The class distinction, the difference between rich and poor has been so poignantly depicted in this poem.

Majority of us dies like this, I think it's better to live and die as an ordinary man.

My body when swiftly lowered to the pit And as everyone left to join the rage of life, I pondered, how on this Earth The distinctions of rank Extend down unto dust And follow one like a faithful mongrel... lovely theme. It is a beautiful poem though it is fictional. Interesting to read. Nice penmanship.

Hi, Sorry dear Poet, I could not locate the poem you suggested, please send me the link. Now, I have just read your humble thoughts on 'When.. died.' I request your good self to re-write this poem again in a different dimension, with more of a grave concern on death and after life possibly blended rightly. What you have composed reflects a kind of pain too. rgds

Hmmm, ... W@ shld I say? ? Msg passed simply...

Thoughtful, reflective write. Much truth in your words. Glad your still with us.

The pit will consume the dead perhaps.. But the talking will never stop And who really dies here, leave alone the 'poor dying'? In fact the poor will die with no poem to honour them. Let living poor be honoured as Russel has rightly said, Chasity, honesty and poverty are the greatest states possible for man'. The luxury of dying has to be felt in living through each phase of death. This is a death poem remarkable for the corpse being too unlucky to be with the poet`s entity omnipresent

Well, I know it's fictional still the pathos filled my heart.. The last four lines spell deep philosophy! Loved your write, AS ALWAYS, VALSA!

We come into the world with, nothing and we depart with nothing. Good one Valsa.

It reminded me of Russell's obituary he wrote for himself but it became a good omen n he lived a long life...yes, it is fictional, and will remain fictional...if God's willing! ! ! stay safe! ! !

When we die all that left is the husk the important bit the soul is free and if we are not remembered it matters not for we all set out on the greatest journey of all This is beautiful poem which says so much death life and poverty 10/10. Thanks for sharing You may like to read 'Soldiers Rest' on a similar theme