R.I.P.
The wicked grin of death, it seals your doom
Within its empty stare you see your tomb
Too late to turn back, you're on your way
But will you live another day
And now you're floating toward a sky of blue
This is the end, you're dead, you're done, you're through
A chalk outline is all that's left of you
Is it real, is it true
And from above you see your funeral
Screaming loud, but noone hears your call
Shattered dreams against a broken wall
Did you ever live at all
And now you sit to take your final exam
Will you pass or forever be damned
You will be judged by what you do and say
But does it matter anyway
Rest In Peace!
Copyright © Moose Polk | Year Posted 2005
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