Undecided by time and hands,
The joke is on you, she said,
Making her last demands,
Leaving the dead
Tomorrows
For the dumb wits
And their sorrows,
In tragic bits
In photographs
Of perils at sea,
Or yesteryear’s laughs
Of you and me.
The joke was on us,
I said, with sad despair.
To die is a plus,
She said, with a flick of her hair,
And added with frightful sneer,
All things that live, die, my dear.
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Comments: 9
I said, with sad despair.
To die is a plus,
Very good, I like that, even though sad ::(