Wiseton Prins Poet Free verse

With Flowers In the Back of a Black Hearse

Long and tedious
Short and sweet
Medium and unfulfilled
It doesn’t see the substance in It
It calls whenever It pleases

Good or bad
Success or failure
Lonely or lovely
In Its eyes it’s all the same
It’s spoilt with choice

Rich or poor
Learned or illiterate
Struggling or enjoying
It isn’t significant to It
It has its mandate to equalize

All other factors withstanding
All efforts however rewarding
All hopes however high
To It we oblige to be ridden 
With flowers in the back of the black hearse

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Carolyn Devonshire April 17, 2011 at 11:30 AM Our wealth, our dreams, our education -- we can't take it with us, Wiseton. Death is the most impartial equalizer we'll ever encounter. Your wonderful, insightful poem reminds me of Emily Dickinson's "Because I Could Not Stop for Death." I'm sure you'd enjoy reading it. Much talent displayed here, my friend. Love, Carolyn