Every so often
I felt the need
to spice up my class
with a sermon
“I do not fail you, ” I began.
Immediately Oscar Bice
called out,
“My good Sir,
I believe you and you alone
gimme a 50.”
Undeterred I continued,
“You fail yourself
ponder this: in fifty years
what?
time flies
gray hair arrives
and soon after
the coffin
luckily
just before being shoveled into
that everlasting box of doom
comes the question:
what is the meaning of Life?
If you can’t answer
forget it
You’re bound for Hell
on a one way ticket
and that’s a fearsome trip
no way out
once the flames
crisp up your flesh
but you don’t burn up
everlasting torment
TORMENT
therefore I say unto you
READ A BOOK
soothe
your troubled souls.”
“You sound like my grandma, ”
Oscar Bice noted.
“What a woman! ”
i love to sound like old mama. so few of them are around, good one charles
50 years and then you're gone. Ouch! I'm 50 now and that hurt! Great lines again, Charles.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another fine poem. It's real life we read here.Hautnah. H