PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

and suddenly i find myself lying there
a corpse.
they look at me, disgusted
cold, blue flesh.

they run around making arrangements
they seek a method of disposal
bury her/burn her/toss her away
they've seen my weakness
my inability to survive
and i lie motionless
no voice. soundless. motionless.

they hate the way i look back at them
so they call someone in
gobs of garish colors.
cheap velvet lined casket
put me in the ground
the freak show wont stop

the way they speak of me...
i shouldve gotten a medal
funny, the same people who antagonized me.
talked behind my back.
who hated me. envied me. disrespected me.
is it guilt that makes them act this way?
they all speak of my triumphs
of my sweet disposition
they cry for my loss.
and yet tomorrow, ill be dirty
wet from the rain
their cheap little lives will roll on

and its all for show.