I have to admit
That I’ll be quite annoyed,
When my heart takes a hit
And I’m off to the void.
With my body encased
In a tatty pine box,
Will I find myself based
In the land of lost socks?
And of what virtue is that
The logic full begs,
When I’m as still as a doormat
And no longer have legs?
© Copyright Philip Barton March 13, 2005 – All rights reserved
