When I die burry me in a poem
I am six foot six so make
My poem seven foot long
Make it from rich azure tales of Arabian nights
Make it's walls strong to protect
My remains from a Poe's delight
Rest my head on a pillow of silken vowels
Line the walls with chiffon
And wolfen howls
Place inside the words of my poems
Lest I be presumptuous
Under my tongue a copper coin
Lest they forget , leave the calendar of my last living date
So I can ponder how fragile life is
Death a certain fate
Finally , bury me six syllables deep
I pray , that my poems
For them to keep
Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
When I die burry me in a poem
I am six foot six so make
My poem seven foot long
Make it from rich azure tales of Arabian nights
Make it's walls strong to protect
My remains from a Poe's delight
Rest my head on a pillow of silken vowels
Line the walls with chiffon
And wolfen howls
Place inside the words of my poems
Lest I be presumptuous
Under my tongue a copper coin
Lest they forget , leave the calendar of my last living date
So I can ponder how fragile life is
Death a certain fate
Finally , bury me six syllables deep
I pray , that my poems
For them to keep
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