The Cork Coffins
This message to the nearly dead
Wakes up the almost living
We can't endure the lies they spread
But it surely does beat giving
Poppy-divers red.
This missive to the hard of heart
Arrests the fading liver
Oh pour a drink to shut her up
And set off in the flivver
If the thing will start
This curse upon the forked of tongue
Splits many from the lively
The slightest whiff of dingo dung
Will force a rhyme contrively
Vapoured in the lung
This sermon to the holy choir
That makes the layman livid
Is tribute to the priest's desire
That daily gets more vivid
Avoid eternal fire
Contributors: | Apsley, chaise, Roland, loaf, Beefy, Ethetran, Kansas Sam, Grayman, jm. |
Poem finished: | 22nd January 2004 by Anon.. |