Man Without a Head
There is a certain man I know who has no head,
And lifeless he lies within his cold, hard bed.
He cannot think or discern to make a rational choice;
He cannot eat or taste or lift up his voice.
He cannot hear secrets, truths, whispers or yells;
He cannot breathe the air or distinguish smells.
He cannot read or see his way out, around his room;
He cannot feel or hold to write, wash and groom.
He cannot, even, lift his arms and legs at all,
He cannot stand upright; he would only fall.
So, paralyzed, he lies cold and hard upon his bed;
Out of place and function, the headless man is dead.
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