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With Flowers In the Back of a Black Hearse

Long and tedious Short and sweet Medium and unfulfilled It doesn’t see the substance in It It calls whenever It pleases Good or bad Success or failure Lonely or lovely In Its eyes it’s all the same It’s spoilt with choice Rich or poor Learned or illiterate Struggling or enjoying It isn’t significant to It It has its mandate to equalize All other factors withstanding All efforts however rewarding All hopes however high To It we oblige to be ridden With flowers in the back of the black hearse

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011




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Date: 4/17/2011 11:30:00 AM
Our wealth, our dreams, our education -- we can't take it with us, Wiseton. Death is the most impartial equalizer we'll ever encounter. Your wonderful, insightful poem reminds me of Emily Dickinson's "Because I Could Not Stop for Death." I'm sure you'd enjoy reading it. Much talent displayed here, my friend. Love, Carolyn
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