Tuesday 14 June 2016

After a Long, Hard Week (poem)

The Grim Reaper sat in the far corner of a dingy tavern late one Friday night,
a cigarette clutched between the first two skeletal fingers of his right hand,
he took a drag and smoke escaped from the gaps where his eyes and nose had never been.

A waitress cautiously approached the table,
nervously eyeing the scythe which lay across it,
not waiting to be asked, he rasped:
“Whiskey, leave the bottle.”

As he began to drink, he pondered the week that had passed,
most of his “clients” met his arrival with awe and terror,
except for the old ones who sighed with relief.

And now here he sat, alone as always,
and why not? Most men recoiled in his presence,
and he avoided the crazy fan club.

His drink and cigarette finished, he reached into his cloak,
suddenly, he slammed two ancient silver coins on the table,
and without a word, swept out into the night,

now more than ever, his work is never done.

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