My Epitaph

My Epitaph Give me some of that laughing gas I need a laugh Be in a fit of giggles before I so write this epitaph Here lies a rather daft lassie, her marble's all ahoy But no one cannot say she wasn’t the real McCoy Wrote all about her exploits in some weird poems High up in the clouds, her words are still on-going Once written down; makes them into paper planes Then sends them down to earth to drive all insane Never to be left forgotten, of that you can be sure She went by that strangest name of Indiana Shaw Indiana Shaw . . . “That’s forward-thinking for you” . . . ; )