INHALE

[herdinator]

I saw a coffin float on by
down the endless street
three metres of the ground

this fuk'n box
of rotting flesh
and a black rose;
the only thing
that wouldn't die

it had been in the ground
for sometime
could see the splinters
filled with mould
the creaks and groans
as it floated by

stained mucus
scratched
finger marks
on the inside
of the open peeled lid

a putrid smell
of something wrong
even the maggots too;
now long gone

as that coffin floated by
I saw the face
a face I did recognise

I didn't laugh
didn't cry
just looked up
into the cold winter sky

And asked,

'how many years has it been since I died?"

By Prince Labiel