Here are some poems I wrote when I was trying for a more traditional approach.
Oh, Well
The flow of blood, so beautiful and clean
Yet soddens our newly waxed floor's bright sheen.
The mess of death, I didn't quite allay;
In my next life, I'll try another way.
Marriage
I cannot assert I love you only.
But anything else will leave me lonely;
Certain words you demand without failure;
Romantic bliss turns into the jailor.
Your nuptial bed is my padded cell.
Our children now have their ticket to hell.
Afterlife
Death has no pride, or so I've been told.
Our ultimate gasp will only behold
The puffed-up illusion of mortal belief,
A fathomless void provides less relief
Than angels with harps who cut our losses--
For only fools still believe in crosses.
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