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Graveyards We Book. “Fools on Facebook”

Artist. Poet. Writer. With each word I wish you see.... The world within & the one around me


Tales from the crypt, solemn in sleep

Deceased simply gone, left the rest, to weep

Truth never enough, go listen to “Ghosts ’n’ Stuff”

Graveyards always wary, nearby humans always scary

If it is your life, looking for truth, forget the norm, become the storm

A coffin simply pries, to salutations, and screams, and endless cries

The one’s standing alive shed a few tears, for the sake of their own fears

Life, a never ending debt

Death simply clears, all past “arrears

Human bondage, knows no bounds, “serendipity and sloth” do their rounds

A body, gives up down South, someone grieves up North

We all forget, “what” lives, and “who all left?”

Nothing ever straight, ask each beard hiding the cleft

Your mind, starts to believe, the next moment, leaves you bereft

Your mind needs to measure, to “think” is an idle pleasure

The departed, simply leave, another universe, open at leisure

Call a priest; perform each ritual, your loved ones show, some support

Now call a doctor, join a gym, and better preserve each nail, holding your fort

We love to hold on, to memories long gone.

We forget what stares us, in the face.

So busy latching on to legacies, we forget we have no trace

Anthropology a need, for human insecurity indeed

We start drawing wills, for our future to pay bills

Have your nameplate ready, as you burn slow and steady

Leave behind a statue; leave behind a road, your name on “Planet Earth”, begging for grace

Carry forth the “legacy”, bound to your bin,

Bound to your illusions of, “Loss or Win”

Be very proud, show off your “Grandfather” loud

Bringing up a child is a pain. Baby showers simply vain.

“Work is life” never suffices. Peace a term for “Stifle your voices”.

Posterity a slap, to your present, full of crap.

Tweet your next move, Instagram each grind and groove

Facebook, your best bet

Be aware “socially”, personally “forget”.

Life waiting to be clicked

Picture perfect selfies to be “ticked”.

Twitter, idle chit chatter, as long as a million people “follow and like”

The world so busy sharing and caring, your world, will take a hike

Now take a walk down your neighbourhood, ask a hungry child, “When was the last time you ate?”.

Give him a dime or two, gather a reporter or two, feel good about those followers fooling you, and your “inevitable fate

“Reality”, a disturbing picture, drowning deep

Tales from the crypt, solemn in sleep

Deceased simply gone, left the rest to weep

© 2017 Nikhil Chopra

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