'' My Coffins Are Used '' Poem by Bri Mar

I'm about to die,
Aren't we all?
No it's not a lie,
Death we can't stall.

Great funeral schemes,
They're trying to sell,
Can you hear my screams?
As I say farewell.

Pay as you go,
That way is best,
At least you'll know,
You've paid for your rest.

As I walk in the door,
Their range is extensive,
My head hits the floor,
This is really expensive.

Choose your own coffin,
Sleek and refined,
What you're carried off in,
For you it's designed.

I say it out loud,
Are you off your head,
That won't make me proud,
I'll be bloody dead.

Take out insurance,
Pay more than you get back?
If that's reassurance,
I'm going on the attack.

My new business is thriving,
I've got plenty of takers,
I call it reviving,
I've got real deal breakers.

I've got designer baskets,
Of every description,
Cars and caskets,
With no need for subscription.

Two in one deals,
If you want I'll go three,
Before screwing the seals,
Throw in another for free.

A hole in the ground,
Or a nice bright fire,
My proposals are sound,
They will never expire.

We're obsessed by death,
To the point we hurry,
Paying for that last breath,
Will cause only worry.

My deals they can't match,
They are totally confused,
They say what's the catch,

‘' My Coffins Are Used ‘'