I'm lying here thinking, I can't make a sound,
can't open my mouth, it's either glued now or bound!
why am I here, why can't they see,
I wish I could move, I sure need to pee!
They say I don't hear, I can't take advice,
they say that I'm dead, now that's just not nice!
I would fix this mess, if I could just move!
I could use some food, and then I'd improve!
But wait, it feels hot while I'm lying in here,
my bed's being burnt, It's all now so clear!
but now I am sailing, in somebody's boat,
hey, don't throw me out, this jar cannot float!
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a poem about a funeral from the deceased's perspective |
Author Notes
Thank you for your wonderful artwork, jean a Cormier.
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