To Dear Departed.

It has been a week
since you were buried
beside that little creak
under that slab of Concrete.
They sealed you beneath,
beneath the dirt. Six feet
under the ground. What caused 'em
to do that? You were just playing 'possum.

You said me, you were scared
of the needles, the doctor.
You played you part too well,i think.
Didn't breath, didn't blink.
Unmoving, sunken cheeks,
as if you died sick.
By now, you are dead. You died
in your coffin. Alone. Claustrophobic.

Are you lonely? Melancholy?
No, sir! Maggots a million
for your company.
Just like the thousands eating
my head and heart to nothing
while they strip you off your
Clothes, Flesh and Soul.
Only leaving your
naked pearly bones.