I Write Poetry

Death Cart

We sat for hours
Waiting for the end
Inevitable, but still
Shocked at the sight
When the death cart filled the room

Holding each other's hands
We stared at the floor
Tears steady
Breath coming fast
While the death cart filled the room

You were not wealthy
The place was too small
Hearing everything
The zip of the bag
While the death cart filled the room

Then it was over
Last thing we heard
Was the slam of the door
We all looked up
At the empty space

The day that the death cart filled the room

Rachael 11-2-18