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The Pits

A Poem by:

Patricia H. Regensburg

Colourful Bar


Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the Author. No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written consent.

It's so much easier to die a child

because he knows what heaven's all about.

It's full of angels with white wings

who feed him hot dogs and junk food

that never make him sick.

And there are other angels who wear jeans

with big holes in the knees and no one cares

and they can skate board, very cool,

in heaven, that's what they call school.

Sounds really neat to him.

I push my tears behind my eyes because

who could compete with skate boarding angels?

I just wish I could keep him here

but I can't let him see my fear

of being left alone.

He looks at me and asks me if I'm sad,

I say I think I'll miss him quite a lot.

He says dying doesn't scare him,

it's lying here without his hair

that's totally the pits.

It's so much easier to die young,

all his dues are paid and heaven's fun.


Patricia H. Regensburg
Copyright © 2002

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