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Limericks dé-crochetés: Is not shame self-humiliation

Is not shame self-humiliation
To be thought of with condescension
   All men know some disgrace
   Except those without grace
Dignity’s the art of pretension

The man who fears not leaving this world
E’en without heir his name can fame mould
   Knows no shame brought by birth
   All’s forgiven in mirth 
Though what lies ahead mayn’t rightly be told

Memory’s a wild accusing thing
It best serves those who here nothing bring
   Nothing take on way out
   Nothing leave to shout ‘bout
What one forgets might well be no-thing

Think of all the pain one puts up with
Just for the sake of the ego myth   
   To be thought of well - swell
   Hail fellow well met - hell !
Who e’er lived to de-mystify death

Shame’s the pain we face in hour of need
Stand alone you’ll likely go to seed
   Join the crowd to feel proud
   The name well-clothed in shroud
All the shame humiliation must feed

End of day finds us shoring up shame
Orchestrated scenes of death-bed fame
   Funerals in black staid
   Write-ups by friends well-paid
All to keep shame hidden in the name

(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017

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