Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Bitter much?

I wrote this one sometime the day after my grandfather died.

Don't say a word
We mustn't be heard
If the monster is stirred
There will be hell to pay

Watch this dizzying dance
Done on tiptoes and eggshells

And though I never got the chance
to tell you, you killed me...you did

Am I going to your funeral
Or are you sleeping through mine?