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By Ivan Pineda | Category :: Poem

Bones are everywhere
bones heaped upon bones
a mountain of bones
bones of men
the poor and the well off
and skeletons climb
this mountain of bones
and as they climb
the fall apart
by the height of this mountain
and on top of the mountain of bones
three men dine on pork and goose
they drink from golden cups
and sit on thrones of marble
they were crowns of silver
and have green ties
the declare themselves
Kings of the mountain of bones
and add to their collection of bones
after every skeleton reaches the top
they crush him like candy
and send the parts of ex-skeleton
to the bottom of the mountain
and grow old and powerful
upon our bones

By Ivan Pineda | Apr 27, 2013 | Category > Poem >Death | Comments 1 | Views 454

Rubi Sarma
nice lines.

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