Life and death
We are all going to die
And it doesn’t matter
How much money you have
Or what possessions you hold
We all wind up in the same place
The avenue of death
For the graveyard
Does not segregate
Or hold discriminatory actions against anyone
When you are dead
You are dead forever
Just a hollow stick in the ground
A pebble lost within the dirt of life
A fallen leaf
On a shallow grave
We are not even safe when we are dead
They put fences around cemeteries
With locks on ten-foot gates
To keep out nomads who steal yesterday’s dreams
As they piss on forgotten gravesites
Because we live in a world
With no respect
Not even for the dead
We get robbed in life
And robbed in death
Taken advantage of
Fucked over
And under
And the candle burning on our grave
Gets stolen by vagabonds
That roam the hallways of demise
It doesn’t really matter anyway
Because we are not there
In the 6 foot chamber
That holds us beneath a pile of earth
We are everywhere
But there we are
Not..
Ken Riccio original poems ©
