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Morbid

by Jay Davenport

You, reader out there, can’t you see?
There is a man following me,
And now as I walk down the street
I don’t hear footfalls of his feet.

Yet I know he is there.

He has a gun under his coat.
That’s all there is, that’s all she wrote.

I wonder how it feels.

He’ll send me on a little ride
I know he will not be denied
I think he’d do it just for fun
Some people would, he could be one
Men in my place could scream or shout
But I’m just glad my will’s made out.

I heard a wine cork pop.

I’m lying down, yes, you CAN see.
I’d say that he took care of me.
These words I speak with my last breath:
I cherished this life and this death.

10/22/2006

Posted on 10/22/2006
Copyright © 2021 Jay Davenport

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