Death and Me

I met death when I was three
At first, he was just a stranger to me
He was dark as night and cold as snow
The sound of his voice I’ll never know
He never spoke a word that I could hear,
But as a small child, he was always near
He had no shadow that I could see
But he was always my shadow for me
His eyes were dark as coal, and his smile carved from stone
But I knew I was safe, if he was home
No one else could see him, just me
But my mother said he was imaginary
He would sit on my toddler bed
While I whispered stories from the picture book I read
He would listen to me, so patiently
By myside I thought he would always be
In deaths embrace I was always safe
I last saw death when I was ten
I never knew that I wouldn’t see him again
I was once asked if I was afraid to die
When “no” was my reply
No one could understand why
But, how can I fear the end,
When I will just meet an old friend?