Little birdie sitting on a tree
Warbling sweet notes to me
Jute against skin
Hanging from the beam
Dancing the wild dance of the end
Cue the useless crying
Cue the fake lamentations
Cue the pretentious eulogies
Cue the belated salutations
None undo the deathly caress of finality
For naught are the hugs
The words of praise
The kisses upon the dark brow
The promises of love
All now belong six feet under
For the final thought of despair
The final tears of anguish
The final words of goodbye
The final longing for a hug
Have all superseded everything
In the final journey on the jute swing
Jute Swing by NightShade is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Based on a work at https://serendipitysees.wordpress.com/nightshades-lair.
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