A Happy Return For The Worse
The cake is ablaze with new candles
They’re taking a whole host of snaps
No hint of a crisis, they hand me a slice, I
collapse
The bunting is strung from the window
They’re treating me like I’m King Tut
They throw me their parties, and that’s when my heart is
kaput
They’re clapping, I’m unwrapping presents
They’re singing that I’m a wild rover
They praise me with ditties – and that’s of course when it is
over
They’re chanting my name (‘Hello Grandad!’)
They’re giving me plaudits and cheers
No love could be deeper, and that’s when the Reaper
appears
Birthdays are fine celebrations
A remembrance of when you drew breath
And yes what is this, as they give me their kiss?
It’s death.
