Oh the pain,
Of the landing,
But he felt it not,
Scrambled now is his brain…
Sunny side up may be his innards,
For someone he will now be a dinner,
He thought himself such a winner,
He now lies face down on the street,
Taking his own life makes him a sinner…
The crowd looks on grief stricken,
“I knew him when first he was laid,”
He had had such great plans, now to himself he betrayed,
Fresh he still was, not out of code,
His life draining, he landed on a grade…
© ed ~ 10/12/05
Bob H
Love Tinka {just shaking my head in disbelieve what you can come up with} You Nutzzzzz!!!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(
I have thought about it in the past, but now all that is behind me, and I am not looking back!
There is nothing funny about suicide...
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla. :(
nice write... even if the poem laid an egg.
TX