Monday, August 8, 2011

My Will (Poem)

Here I am at the age of fifty
Shuffling off the coil.
No wife, no kids, and no things nifty,
And I’ll soon be under soil.
This will be brief, I ain’t got much,
But what I got goes to friends.
Just use ’em as you wish and such
Till you meet your own ends.
Jennifer gets my microwave
I know you love to nuke stuff.
Chris, of dudes you were my fave,
Don’t like my old bike? Tough!
Kim, my vacuum’s just for you
Do change the filter yearly.
Kathy, you get that chair that’s blue,
I hope you love it dearly.
My cordless phone is for you Val,
You can gossip while you move.
My recordings are for Laura, gal,
(The old ones have a groove.)
My artwork goes back to its makers,
And you know who you are.
My clothes I’m sure will get no takers,
To Goodwill in a car!
My computer is now obsolete
Not loved by rich nor poor.
While taking what’s left to the street,
It can prop open my door.

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