In the Mortuary
When I lay in the mortuary,
Don’t cry, smile and appreciate my journey.
Throughout life, at times, I lived wary.
I carried hope, love and even the burdening worry.
When I lay in the mortuary,
Before I’m buried and forgotten in a cemetery,
About my death don’t ask questions,
Don’t whisper in my stiff, blue ears confessions.
Few would come to my funeral,
Fewer would weep.
Few would care,
Fewer would lose sleep.
When I lay in the mortuary,
Burn my drafts and books,
My life was dull and ordinary.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
