Here lies the body of Mister Paniker
who at the end of his panicking days
agreed to lie still for a while.
It's not known what happened to his soul
if indeed he ever had one.
He wasn't quite unlike any of us while he lived;
his flesh to tell the truth often revolted
and upset his delicate sensibility.
Space he could never control to his liking;
his sense of time you know wasn't strong either.
He had of course in his wallet many a theory;
the things he could touch however
told him a different story.
All his life he was patiently
learning how not to live at all.
Who knows perhaps
given another chance
he might do a better job of it than before.
And you who pass by
do not stop here for long
but move on quietly to the nearest graveyard
that may be waiting for you.
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Comments about this poem (Epitaph by Ayyappa Paniker )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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