The Box
I loved life when I died.
And all my breathless hopes and dreams
were hammered inside a wooden box
so neat and prim,
holding what was life within.
HL 5/7/14
Addendum in response to inquiries and speculation: This ditty is intended in fond contemplation of those who have gone before and is in no way autobiographical. In fact, I am enjoying this mortal coil so much that I ain't never leaving!
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