We want to stay on the right side of the grass
We don’t want to die, but alas, we must pass
Taxes and death are the things that are certain
Our days will be over. Bring down final curtain!
When the end has arrived, and we draw our last breath
PREMATURE is a word we don’t want before death
If it’s our time to go, and we know we can’t stay
We want to be old, to be wrinkly, and gray!
* ON WITH THE SHOW! *
At the very next funeral, the people file in
Glad they’re in church, not to hear about sin!
Covered in flowers, the deceased in a coffin
This is not an event that you want to do often!
Great thing about mourning, black makes you look thin
To care how you look is not wrong, so just grin
Go buy some new clothes. It will pay to look good
Dressed like a movie star! You’ve gone HOLLYWOOD!
A quick, sudden death. Loved ones filled with great woe?
NOPE! The family starts fighting over all of the dough
They want the good stuff. Everything deceased had
They take all of the wealth! They’re not sad, they are glad!
Cremation or burial. Decision to be made
Stuffed in an urn or in ground, they are laid
We all end up somewhere for that eternal sleep
But their loved ones will pick out the one that is cheap!
You had grandpa cremated! His ashes you’ll treasure
To have him so near will provide you with pleasure
Keep him safe on a shelf. Up high, if you please
But –
If you look in the urn, you can wheeze but DON’T SNEEZE!
Once you are planted, please try to stay put
Exhuming a body means mischief’s afoot
If your death is suspicious, they’ll just have to check
Which means digging you up from way down below deck
* GRIEF MAKES US GIDDY *
An embarrassing death? That is no way to go
Don’t laugh at their passing. NO! NO! NO! NO!
There’ll be giggles and chuckles and laughter galore
If they die on the pot with their pants on the floor!
Funerals and flatulence don’t go hand in hand
A strong, gruesome odor that has to be fanned
A squeak and a pop, that’s so loud that they’re heard
Never have seconds of fermented bean curd!
The casket is OPEN for a nudist who dies
They have nothing to hide, so please close your eyes
Although you are tempted, do not sneak a peek
You might just see something that you’d like to tweak!
* AND IN THE END *
When your days are over, and you are long gone
You’re six feet down under, fer-ti-liz-ing the lawn
Stretched out in a box, wearing your Sunday best
Because –
As you become compost, you must be well-dressed!
POETRY AT PLAY 