Corpse and Hesitating Shovels
To the venue we unfortunately got close
And the stench pounced on my nose,
Forcing in a harming dose
And inconveniencing six other nostrils
That lived for only salubrious thrills:
The fattest challenge Rude stench throws
To our finicky population plus those
Who readily glimpse the woes
In the dreadfully non- fragrant
And about them could rant...
But soon questions I began to pose
About corpse their owners ceaselessly froze,
Envisioning all the unacceptable throes
And wondering if their sleeping spirits rose
'Would they ever forgive their hesitating shovels and hoes?'
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