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Life's only certainty

Death is coming Fast and hard,
no matter how you play your cards.
you could try to run and hide,
but death is all that you shall find.
In the end the ground we will meet,
for death is something we cannot cheat.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Editing stage: 


Nicely rhyming poem about a reality we all face at some point in our journey. As is rightly said death is th\e only "Certainty In Life", which could also be a title for this short crisp poem.


raj (sublime_ocean)

thank you..

this is very true.nice one.


welcome to NeoPoet.
Up front... I'm probably the harshest critic you will find here, so to begin-
I don't know what your understanding of meter is, but the poem is largely metrical in its construction. Either you know a bit or you've some natural feel. Either is good.
I would change a couple of things.
You appeared to use punctuation, so I would suggest using it throughout. For example the following line comes after a period and needs a capital. Some poets write without punctuation at all (I can't do it emotionally), but I think it needs to be all or nothing.

"(Y)you could try to run and hide,"

As for meter, only the last line is problematic in my eyes. "Something" adds too many syllables. You could replace it with "what" or "all" and the line would match the meter elsewhere.
The subject matter is good. I look forward to your next poem and hope you will take advantage of all the learning opportunities here. Scribbler will be starting a workshop on "Imagery" very soon. I hope you will join us. NeoPoet is a workshop environment where our primary goal is to help each other improve.
There... that's about as harsh as I ever get.
Hope I didn't chase you away.
Again... welcome.

W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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