I shouted at the grave-diggers to stop
as they lowered my coffin
into the grave,
but my vocal chords were frozen
and down I went.
The coffin plopped on the floor.
I listened as the mourners
tossed dirt onto the lid.
Before long everyone had left
and my tomb was silent.
It’s chilly under the ground
and remarkably boring.
I started composing a list
of virtuous things I’d done in life
to see if I’m eligible for Paradise.
To my dismay
I remembered mainly
cruel or heartless acts.
I wish I could begin all over.
In the meantime I wonder
how long I have to lie here.
Shouldn’t an angel be coming for me?
No one tells you exactly
what to expect after dying.
Based on my experience so far,
I’d say death is a bummer.
My advice:
Avoid it at all costs.
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