Poison

Look, there’s Death in Sister’s face, in her eyes – that’s the poison.

Everyday she eats more poison. For a moment she is alive again,

Young, then Death moves a little closer. Dorothy lives close

To death and lies. I cannot see any truth in her eyes or in her face

Anymore. The poison eats the truth and changes her face.

And though I love my sister, my Dottie, I also feel pulled to bury her.

I wonder now if I, her brother, ever knew her true face at all.

Oh, Sister – why do you love that liar, Death? Why do you love

That one brief moment more than you love your own life?

This poem was written/submitted by James Lee Jobe.

(2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

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