Author Information
My Dead Man
I have a dead man in my chair
He sits and waits, he even stares
I don’t know why he is with me
But he seems happy as can be
I have a dead man on my back
He’s heavy as a brick filled sack
He whispers in my ear all day
I wonder if he means to stay
I have a dead man on the couch
He never seems to bend or slouch
But at the end of everyday
He promises my pain will stay
I have a dead man in my bed
He keep his hand upon my head
His grip is tight, too tight for me
But nowhere else I’d rather be
I have a dead man in my house
Not a dog, cat, bird or mouse
I look into his hollowed eyes
And see not but pain and lies
I have a dead man yes I do
Though you may not think it true
I know I should not you see
Maybe that’s what wrong with me
I have a dead man right here
I should not hold him so dear
And when the dead away I give
Only then may I again live
Obviously something
Obviously something troubling and burdening you. As you say when you tire of these burdens you'll let go of your dead man. That to me is the reassuring part of the poem; I'd let go sooner rather than later of all that is troubling you, including any man bringing about such brudensome ways. An interesting read and detailed you could feel the oppressive guarded ways of the problems as they clung to you the living.
http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57
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"I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity"
-Edgar Allan Poe