In Your Grave

In Your Grave

A Poem by The Cunning Linguist
"

The final journey....

"
Come and take this trip with me I promise it'll be brief,
the first stop is your funeral; I promise, it'll be grief,
from all your friends and loved ones yes they all will shed a tear,
and wishing you were back with them but you'll be dead for years.

The undertaker did his job; you're lookin oh so great,
as if you're fast asleep but see the graveyard knows no fate,
just empty promises and broken dreams that weren't saved,
you know just where we're goin don't you? Yes we're in your grave.

You smell like the embalming fluid racing through your corpse,
your blood went down the drain like it was H2O of course,
real talk, for all eternity you're sort of predisposed,
to live on as a memory; your body decomposed.

Don't think that this is just for you; it's meant for all of us,
returning to the earth from which we came; we all are dust,
who're living lives just waiting for the moment when it stops,
just think, around the world that ev'ry time a minute drops,

another man or woman's lifeline ceases to exist,
it's all a great big circle that's not easy to resist,
we all are born to die and as we live we all gon try,
to go outrun The Reaper; in the end we all expire.

The best that we can hope for is a visit, maybe two,
from some forgotten relative that lives on as they do,
til then there's no escaping; like there's water in a wave,
nobody lives forever; guaranteed, you're in your grave.

©2014
The Cunning Linguist


© 2014 The Cunning Linguist


Author's Note

The Cunning Linguist
When my brother was murdered, I began to contemplate my own mortality. Until someone very close to you dies, it'll never sink in exactly what being dead truly means. The macabre creative side of me wrote this piece to those who are fortunate enough to have never had those kinds of thoughts.

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Reviews

I took the trip,
And, it was worth the reading distance for certain...
What is death's meaning? It appears that it is unique to us all.
Well expressed, TCL.
Jip

Posted 9 Years Ago



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Added on July 21, 2014
Last Updated on July 21, 2014
Tags: Poetry, Macabre, Death, Dying, Dead, Wordplay

Author

The Cunning Linguist
The Cunning Linguist

Wanaque, NJ



About
Born & raised in Newark, NJ, T.C.L. started writing poetry at age 14 and continues to let a wide variety of topics influence his writing and is not afraid to tell it how he feels it, no matter who get.. more..

Writing