Death is my Living!
By Denzella
- 4449 reads
Death is my Living!
I have a serious sombre face
Suited to a funereal pace
Well practised, no need to rehearse
I slowly walk in front of the hearse
So-called friends of mine cruelly say
My face is always lodged in dismay
If my face is plain miserable
Then it is eminently suitable
I cannot deny it so I yield
Landscaped as it is like a ploughed field
Lines so deep I could grow a fine crop
Don’t go there now so shall we just stop
Anyway, I have to earn my living
And do so by relatives giving
A fee to cover all my expense
Cash as always my preferred recompense
Dressed in black with my sash and top hat
I led out front for a diplomat
His wife followed with son and heir
While I led with an authoritative air
The one before was for an acrobat
So, out came my top hat and cravat
I make no distinction with a corpse
So led along the seafront at Cleethorpes
If the corpse gets buried with no mistake
I get invited to the deceased’s wake
Like the Coop, it is good with food
For me it is a move that is shrewd
My motto, once the departed is laid to rest
Make absolutely certain that you are a guest
Pinch yourself and if it hurts, give a grin
Because you’re not the poor sod in the coffin!
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Comments
;-) There you are, you
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Hi Denzella, I thought this
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Sorry Denzella,just one'
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Hello Denzella, I humbly
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Thank you, Moya, for your
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overall, i like this poem.
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Hi Moya, Metre is something
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I really don't know how
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Hi Denzella, I've just read
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