'' I'm Not Coming Back '' Poem by Bri Mar

I wonder what form,
Will be the norm,
In the mysterious Heaven and Hell,
As our appearance here does cause a storm,
Please God or Satan, pray tell.

We think we're refined,
With a body designed,
To give and to also take pleasure,
The problem is our shell's left behind,
Our vanity we just cannot measure.

While the mourner grieves,
What actually leaves,
I know humans call it a soul,
Is it what the individual perceives,
Over it will we have control.

Win or lose,
Do we get to choose?
After passing is democracy dead?
The very thought of an eternal cruise,
Does show we are easily led.

How will I know,
All those on show,
Friends and relatives who've all went before,
Do souls have a tag above and below,
Will I recognise those I adore.

The question this begs,
Are there arms and legs,
Do we still have the subject of race?
If it's to Hell you then place the dregs,
If they burn they can't have a face.

Let us pray,
I'm on my way,
Of substance there's a terrible lack,
My own belief, we're being led astray,
What I do know,

‘' I'm Not Coming Back ‘'