Poem - 29 January 2017, 20:00 Death June Gordon Sitting, Waiting,Ā Soon it'll come, But now we wait Until they drop. One by one, As new wondering ones arise. The hour gnawing on themĀ Till drops their breath, And brings out death. Like 1 Pin it 0 Support CosmoFunnel.com You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal. Views: 436 Rating: Total votes: 1 Tags: Adventure Angel Believe Brain Poetry Genre: Drama Freestyle Prose Tragedy Verse Listed in: Contest Entries