Death By Bus
Old photographs remind me,
of how things used to be.
We were married thirty years,
everyday pours down tears.
Til the day we meet again,
well, you know the day when.
You died so young at fifty five,
everyday without you,
is a struggle to survive.
You got crushed by a bus,
all I saw was oozing pus.
Me and kids were devastated,
so were friends,
and all people related.
Crying at pictures of old,
everything you touched,
turned to instant gold.
How we'd laugh and carry on,
one year later and you're still gone.
No signs of an after life,
my pain hurts worse,
than a stabbing from a knife.
Today I got the bus company money,
suddenly life became more sunny.
Now that I'm filthy rich,
found myself a brand new *****.