Reaper and the Creeper

This is a poem I made for someone who asked me to make a poem in the honor of their friend who was murdered, but I didn't know this person, so instead of writing a poem about their death, I decided to write one about murder and death in itself. :)

Reaper, why is there a

Creeper at my door?

Dear reaper

Why is there a man

With a knife in his hand?

Please tell me

Why is it I

Who must die?

“Because it is your time”

But my life is not yet lived

“Yes it is. You have left your mark

Now come with me to the dark”

Everyone dies

And everyone cries

But it is what you do

That makes who

It is that is remembered

It is not how you die

But how you lived

And what you did

To others around you

This I know is true

Just ask the reaper

And he will tell you

All he knows of you,

And if you have been true

To those around you