( / Iran)

Death Is A Classroom

Death is a classroom
A corpse, the teacher
The living, students
The lesson taught
Is written
In an ever quivering hand
On the edges of the soul
Till The bells ring
Class is dismissed
And the playground of life
Calls once more

User Rating: 5 / 5 ( 0 votes ) 6

Comments (6)

This one becons to me with the title, and then grabs hold of my soul with with each stanza... never letting me go until the last two lines... setting me free to go.. run and play! -Outstanding Write Anahita! - I'm now officially a fan! ; -) -Kelly.
Your poem is short and shaker.Bravo...
You know, Anahita is one my favorite names for ladies. The best thing about your poems is the way you convey your thoughts in short lines and poems. I love short and deep poetry. I have the same idea as Delilah has. Best wishes.
anahita, i probably don't understand this the way you do, but I LIKE IT. i was drawn to the title initially. i'm glad it wasn't like some people's sad, depressing, hopeless sounding poems. i wish all iranians and americans could live life on a playground, a playground where mutual respect and happiness are the rules. thanks for sharing. bri edwards
Wow, so powerful mind u have.enjoyed it.especially the great ending. muchas gracias for sharing~nb
See More