Anonymous Mortal

Died, dead, DEATH, my dear!

What is this ‘passed away’ we hear?

Mere words,

as if taking but an hour away;

not eternally gone–

just on to live some elsewhere day?

 

I know how you feel.

Your body’s given out;

maybe stuck in a wheelchair–

lots of non compos mentises about

with the poor young wage slaves:

we know how that went–

labor’s children of immigrants

serving aged bodies’ bent.

Download Anonymous Mortal

Comments are closed.