'' I'm Dead '' Poem by Bri Mar

I'm lying here,
No feeling of fear,
I can see and hear everything that's said,
What's going on is not really clear,
They're saying I still look quite red.

Everyone's crying,
It's mystifying,
They've laid out a beautiful spread,
This will take, some clarifying,
What in god's name have I bred?

He was getting old,
He needed cajoled,
He could barely get out of his bed,
Yet look, he had his cigarettes rolled,
He always kept himself fed.

Lived life risky,
Always quite frisky,
Went, where no man would tread,
Up till now he enjoyed his whisky,
Never looked back but ahead.

His family disappeared,
To them still endeared,
Yet from him his children all fled,
Against him every one of them was steered,
Yet throughout his life he was bled.

As I try to reply,
I see them cry,
They all have a feeling of dread,
In unison they say, we cannot deny,
Another like him won't be bred.

I can't move my arms,
Nor turn on the charms,
For clarity, to the Gods I've pled,
This is beginning to ring my alarms,
Just where am I being led.

Here comes the coffin,
They'll carry me off in,
Now they're lifting me out of my bed,
Though in life, I was never a boffin,
My existence now hangs by a thread.

I can't stand the suspense,
Though I never was dense,
I can't say what's going on in my head,
Everything they're saying, it's in past tense,
My God, I know now,


‘' I'm Dead ‘'