Don’t Weep For Me Poem by David Harris

Here I lay in bed
the throes of death
dance round my head.
Don’t weep for me
when I am dead,
because all you will see
is just the husk of me.
I will be gone to somewhere else,
although they have not told me yet.

It could be somewhere hot
so I can burn my toes.
It could be somewhere cold
so it will freeze my nose.
Then again it could be somewhere in between
where the air is clean.
They say that is quite nice,
a sort of paradise.

So when I am dead,
don’t weep for me.
You can take the husk
and do what you will.
You can burn or bury it deep,
which will give the worms something to eat.
You can put me a cardboard box
if you are that way incline,
I really do not mind,
for I will already be gone from there.

To where that is anyone’s guess,
they have not told me yet.
When I get there, I won’t be coming back.
No one ever does from there,
except to haunt those who have done me wrong,
and then only until the day they to are gone.
I guess it is time to sat goodbye.
Just remember what I said,
don’t weep for me
when I am dead.


2 July 2007