When the grass becomes grey 
The sun begins to fade 
Food has no more taste 
And you lose every bit of life in ur face 

The people you wish upon 
For a better life are now gone
Your heart begins to sink 
And the air begins to stink 

Your body begins to rot 
Emotion's lost their spot 
Beauty is now death 
And it's hard to take another breath 

Never can sleep 
Living becomes a steep 
Freedom becomes dead 
And healing dies in ur head 

There's no spot for this poem to end 
Nor is it a good one to tell a friend 
But it's good to tell you 
Cause u have finished through 

            R.I.P. Michael Bowman 9/29/11