The Mortician’s Tale

THE MORTICIAN’S TALE

Cool, white, clean slabs of marble
The dead never feel the cold
Occupied by corpses of many a kind
Some beautiful, some young, some old

There is row upon row
Of white cotton sheets
Some stained with blood
Revealing toe-tagged feet

Oneday one went missing
So the mortician confides
The window had been broken
……………..From the inside!!!

(c) Chris Ankin 2707/09

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s