I Hate You I Said
I jumped a bit when the hearse was slammed.
My bones were brittle, and I felt quite damned.
My flesh was starting to gray up, it gave a laugh.
My eyes were sinking, and I felt a draft.
She’s not in there, someone assured my kin.
I knew it was true because of the shape I was in.
I had been confused at the onset of death of course.
I was still angry as hell at that run-away horse!
Can I see her one last time? A familiar voice said.
I was horrified. I did not want this guy to see my body dead.
NO! I yelled NO! But did they hear me? Of course not.
They opened it up and he yelled “She has some dry rot!”
I hate you I said. Get out of my face. You are a worm.
I saw him flinch, back up, scream, and finally squirm.
Don’t let anyone else see me this way! I told the undertaker.
But of course, he did not listen, that sneering give me a hand shaker.
How many more times are you going to open this hearse and lid?
Why don’t you just toss me in the street? I asked my Uncle Sid.
They put me in a hearse and whisked me away in the night.
I was relieved when I saw angels and headed straight toward the light.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2022
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