The box lid opened
I lay there in wonder
What the hell am I doing
I should be six feet under
They didn’t listen
When I said no funeral
They dressed me up
Put me on display
Now here I lay
Looking at my feet
Trying not to see
The people
Peering in at me
Why didn’t they come see me
When I was alive
Even if it was
A very long drive
Nope, I can’t do this
Too many faces
Too many years
Too many tears
Wasted
I will focus on my feet
Who the hell picked my shoes
I would rather see my toes
White sneakers
The worst color
They’ll be dirty way too soon
One good thing that I see
No laces
That suits me
I wonder what will happen
If i just get up and go
How will any of these people
Ever even know
Come on sneakers
It’s time to go
It’s a weird thing
To see yourself
Lying in a coffin
Your loved ones gathered in one place
This doesn’t happen often
A twinge of anger
Or is it regret
As I drift upward
And try to forget
Wait
Upward
That’s good right
Come on sneakers
Let’s go toward the light
The light seems to be fading
We’ve got to run fast
I understand why I’ve got on
White sneakers at last
Run sneakers run
Let nothing get in our way
Hurry up sneakers
We get to see God today
E.A. Fussell
3/16/2019
(Poetry exercise, topic: sneakers)
