Here I lay in bed <br />the throes of death <br />dance round my head. <br />Don’t weep for me <br />when I am dead, <br />because all you will see <br />is just the husk of me. <br />I will be gone to somewhere else, <br />although they have not told me yet. <br /> <br />It could be somewhere hot <br />so I can burn my toes. <br />It could be somewhere cold <br />so it will freeze my nose. <br />Then again it could be somewhere in between <br />where the air is clean. <br />They say that is quite nice, <br />a sort of paradise. <br /> <br />So when I am dead, <br />don’t weep for me. <br />You can take the husk <br />and do what you will. <br />You can burn or bury it deep, <br />which will give the worms something to eat. <br />You can put me a cardboard box <br />if you are that way incline, <br />I really do not mind, <br />for I will already be gone from there. <br /> <br />To where that is anyone’s guess, <br />they have not told me yet. <br />When I get there, I won’t be coming back. <br />No one ever does from there, <br />except to haunt those who have done me wrong, <br />and then only until the day they to are gone. <br />I guess it is time to sat goodbye. <br />Just remember what I said, <br />don’t weep for me <br />when I am dead. <br /> <br /> <br />2 July 2007<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/don-t-weep-for-me-2/
