Tuesday, December 12, 2017

dead


death sat by the sidewalk nursing a beer
his eyes twinkling with bloodshot cheer
he raised his bottle and took a swig
and then another to make it big
he belched, farted and let out a sigh
as he wonderingly watched the world whiz by
he saw a traffic jam that stretched a mile
and never spotted a single cheery smile
he gazed into their eyes wet with worry
heard their short steps breathless in hurry
like they were rapidly running out of place
and thought of the Piper and the rat race
so he shook his head and raised many toasts
to the lovely living who lived like ghosts
to the teeming millions who struggled on
like broken clockwork toys from dusk to dawn
and pondered if they even knew their crime
that they were dead before he called time.

ram cobain

(Pic courtesy Dreamtime)
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