The Funny Bloke
I had a mate who had an unusual sense of humour
They call it black humour for what it is
We were putting a suicide in the morgue
It was a fatal gunshot wound to the head
As I looked through to him I spotted him
Through the ear that was left
He was making faces at me
Another time we were loading a body up
And he said “You take the feet”
But there was only one leg left and he laughed
It sounds strange now particularly for others
You know, sometimes it was the only way
That we were able to get through the day.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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.
