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Death Poems About Super

Super death poems and poems about death for Super. Read and share these heartfelt Super death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Super Poems.

Poem Details | by Terry Miller |
Categories: daughter, death, pets,

Super, Awesome, and Grand

Rasp-rasp, rasp-rasp, the saw moves up and down;
because coffins are built better by hand.
My young daughter watches in her pink gown;
to make sure that it's right, you understand.

"It can't; it can't be a shabby old box,"
she cried out loud; "best wood, best silk, and, and;
he needs to be dressed in one of his frocks;
it has to be super awesome and grand!"

Her first small pet, Bunny, expired today.
Put in the box with love; sobbing, and tears
we'll surround it with buds, flowers; and pray;
while both stroking its soft downy big ears.

"Can we plant it now, dad?" She said with glee
"And will it grow into a rabbit tree?"


Poem Details | by Jimmy Anderson |
Categories: death, fantasy, funnyme,

Super Villain

Superman was blown to bits out the midnight sky!
Unmasked so he could look me in my cold dark eye.
Pale horse arrives from a raging storm, standing above his lifeless form.
Enraged and completely out of control.
Regenerated as I stole superman's soul!

Viciously I murdered Lois Lane.
Including Peter Parker, for I ate his brain!
Laughing hysterically with brain matter dripping from my lip.
Lightening flashes at the crack of my bullwhip.
Anarchy fuels this hunger for annihilation.
I will not stop 'til I cause great tribulation!
Nightmare scares when people think of my warfare.....


*visit me on myspace "Jimmy M. Anderson"

Poem Details | by william white |
Categories: death, depression,

Super Bad

Ostracised from the pack,
letting go of the things held dear
simply to survive barbarity.
He knew all the answers
so they spewed on him for
baring open what ought to be closed.
Death is is next to weather
the onslought of alienation.
So he takes a shotgun to the mouth.
What there is after the death,
for an instant he ponders as the slug
travels through the barrel towards his brain.
Such a pity that nature gives only one breath
and with no second chance his skull explodes
and with the flick of a lamp his dreams end.