He was murdered
the detective said.
Eddie King was
discovered shot dead.
Why would anyone
do this terrible thing
to my friend Eddie King?
He was crude,
proud and arrogant,
yet a charming dude.
Once the charm wore off
his hubris came out.
You would see his real self,
a loathsome lout.
He had many foes,
very few friends,
and many, many debts.
He owed nearly everyone
by making bad bets.
He bet on everything,
even his life.
"I'm glad he's gone, "
sighed the relieved wife.
The late Eddie King
paid the full price
for the way he lived.
Now he's on ice.
So let's have a toast
and raise our beers
and say our farewells
along with our cheers.
To the untimely passing
of our friend Eddie King.
We'll cremate his body
and be glad of one thing:
He's dead and gone
and won't be borrowing
anymore of our dough,
the late Eddie King.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem