Inside This Urn

Ok Daddy I suppose

You put our future up your nose.

When we invest our money grows

But that was not the path you chose.

If greener grass is what you seek

Just look across this narrow street.

It seems this crop has reached it's peak

No need to serch another week.

His mother died when he was young

On top a hill his father hung

From Sheriff Jackson's tree he swung.

Now everyone could see his tounge.

Now if you have some time to burn

Come sit down here and have your turn.

So many wonderous things you'll learn

About the ashes in this Urn.

 

 

 

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Stephen's picture

Interesting write.

Reminds me of a John Prine song entitled "Daddy has a hole in his arm and that is where his money goes."