Poetry Blogs (no loved ones)
Your body was found dead in your flat, three months gone and smelling like hell.
They came and took you away, to the morgue downtown, an unhappy place.
Clearing your flat they found £4.88, not much to show for a lonely death.
Always on your own, eternally in death. How sad no one will see you buried, a pauper’s death, the undertaker the only witness at this solemn occasion....
Wednesday 15th January 2014 3:25 pm