Time Alone Will Tell
I woke up dead this morning,
at least I thought I was.
Death isn't like I imagined it
and nothing like the world of Oz.
It's misty, quiet, and lacking substance,
but there's other people here.
We're kind of floating about in a vacuum,
as though waiting to disappear.
Sure enough some are slowly fading
whilst others are falling from the mist.
Do they really go somewhere different,
or do they both cease to exist?
Even here the same old questions get asked,
is there really a heaven and hell,
am I really floating about or just dreaming?
Time alone will tell.
poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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