Burying Caesar
Friends, neighbors, countrymen,
I come to bury Caesar not to praise him.
Of course he was no famous emperor,
although he was proud and tough enough
to think he was the king of our alley.
Poor Caesar, a life cut short
by some irresponsible driver
squashed him down in the middle of the street
and kept on going, a reckless fool.
So bury Caesar we must,
even though he has no coffin to speak of,
no flowers by request, that's to be expected,
but why he was not given any proper shroud?
No prayers are said, poor Caesar,
but tears flow quickly enough
for he was loved by all, children and old folks;
and now I cannot fathom
how I’ll miss his welcoming joy
when I come back from work,
or our lovely trips in our large public garden.
Who will wake me up early in the morning,
when I will never hear his awful barking
at each blessed dawn of day....poor dog!
Note: This is actually a repost of a poem I once deleted but never reposted.
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