Death is an uptown ladyA Poem by TedSometimes death whispers to me At the telephone When I’m in a conversation She whispers and she’s breathing hard Sometimes I think at night, of death It’s like I am in love with her Listening to love songs, Reading love poems Aren’t you afraid of her? A statue on my desk asks No, I say Death is not like what we think she is Don’t be fooled Death is an uptown lady With designer clothes With expensive crystals mounted on her dress And she doesn’t bear a scythe on her shoulder anymore She’s not all bones like we thought she is She is a busty lady With shapes and great legs With rounds breast and bottom She speaks in different languages She knows French, Spanish, Russian, She even knows ancient Greek And she can quote from Homer and Sophocles. Oh, surely you can have A very stimulating conversation with her, She’ll discuss about economics, recent crisis Stock exchange, She’ll even talk politics She looks like many women I saw, In magazines, and on the catwalk She has style, She surely does She looks like that lady I see every day at the bank, She looks Just like the women at the corner, Selling flowers As I look closer and closer I can see she resembles many women That I’ve had She resembles even the one in the bed, Next to me And now as I ponder My darling I think the lady in dark resembles you ! © 2013 Ted |
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Added on August 17, 2013 Last Updated on August 17, 2013 Author
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