Amazing Grace in dirge parade.
A coffin carried with great esteem.
Bright and cheery orange sweater,
now enclosed, forever. She’s laid
to rest in an open nest, enclosed
in dour cement. Her body old,
well truthfully dead, for age no longer
matters. Arrives in heaven, composed.
Her fingers no longer gnarled, out
of her stingy wheelchair, fruitful hair,
no need for a nurse or a...
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