For no solid enough reason other than perhaps pointing out to you the folly associated with not heeding the message carried in those R150 funeral scheme adverts that normally flight during Generations and Khumbulekhaya, I thought I should share with you the hereunder poem of unknown parentage. It is darkly humorous; just the way I like it. The old grey hearse goes rolling by, You dont know whether to laugh or cry; For you know some day itll get you too, And the hearses next load may consist of you. Theyll take you out and theyll lower you down, While men with shovels stand all a-round; Theyll throw in dirt and theyll throw in rocks, And they wont give a dam-m-m if they break the box. The worms crawl in and the worms crawl out, They crawl all over your chin and mouth, They invite their friends and their friends friends too, And you look like hell when theyre through with you. Ehhe. Kuyez ukufa!
Posted on: Sat, 16 Aug 2014 21:46:33 +0000
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