Death's Living Soldier

Grim creeps just 'round one’s shoulder,
Deaths only living soldier.

A friendly man indeed,
A poor man in need,
A gambler making bets,
The rich man in regret.

But no man as well,
And time can only tell,
Who will look round their shoulder.
And see death’s only living soldier.

poem by Chloe I. P.
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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