Poetry

Saturday, 11 February 2023

Oh Brother

 The graves are getting dug

Please put a penny in the old man's cup

If you haven't got a penny a ha'penny will do

If you haven't got a ha'penny

well God bless you


The cemetery flashed in the lightning storm

The bells rung out

Some were stirring

Who were not dead

Almost dead

For they'd been buried long enough

Buried alive that is


It wasn't hard to see, but they didn't

Have the checks nor the technology


To find out if he were really gone

So they sewed him up

He grappled he said

What an accident

Underground

The grave diggers did wrong

Oh brother, Oh brother

Where art though


Brothers in arms we are

All until they close the door

And shovel the soil

A top the grave

Then we we will spoil

Unless we be saved

But somebody has to do it

This job

Oh brother 


Once or twice they did it

Saved by the bell,

When the doctors got it wrong

And pronounced them dead

Then when they wake they're in hell

In a six foot down bed

But at least they could pull the chain

And let them know up on the living land

Because it must take some doing

To dig yourself out by hand


Once I dropped my mobile phone

Down into the grave

I didn't know that I'd done it

Until I got home

And then there was a silence on the waves

But you cannot exhume an old phone

And you shall not disturb the dead

Even if they answer from the other side

The call charges are extortionate to the Afterlife



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