If you should feel the need to write a glowing poem
Please desist, take some tea, reflect on where I’m going.
You will not hear my laughter, light upon the breeze.
My smile is not in sunshine nor movement in the trees.
An inert body fresh interred means my voice cannot be heard
And no trite piece of rhyme should ease your loss nor mine.
Agree with me to shun – eschew – the syrup-sickly lies
Contract our pact to face – embrace – everybody dies.
The hope my body rests in is divine, creative Word
Let the tired cliches rest. like me. in peace.