The dead can’t see
Sniff, hear, sip, feel.
There’s nowhere to be
There’s nothing that’s real.
They’ve escaped life’s sorrow,
Not anxious about tomorrow.
The dead don’t cry.
Wonder when they die.
John Northcutt Young
The dead can’t see
Sniff, hear, sip, feel.
There’s nowhere to be
There’s nothing that’s real.
They’ve escaped life’s sorrow,
Not anxious about tomorrow.
The dead don’t cry.
Wonder when they die.
John Northcutt Young
Reblogged this on Brevity.