Death Poem by Mark Heathcote

Death



Death, I'm guessing for most, it will be like the first time they entered the 'Ghost House' at the funfair, only to then realize-they've-been tricked, short-changed, and that they have seen and done it all before. Death is the greatest of all unknown adventures left to us, isn't that why people run scared? As they enter the Funhouse wall of mirrors shouting who's afraid of the big bad wolf. Death will be grinning in that alien trailer park when your heart finally stops beating like a traction engine. When your soul your spirit are no longer ectoplasm candyfloss stuck to the side of your gums, you will scream and learn, Death, wasn't the star attraction that you had already played every part, been done every scene in a movie you and you alone directed.

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