In This Morgue
In this morgue, this dismal place,
A blind beggar hangs his face
By the mirror on the wall
In the stinking bathroom stall.
Sipping brandy in the loo,
He remembers what to do:
Look for a new walking stick,
One that will not clack or click.
Sideways now he tilts his head,
Living man among the dead,
Happy man with no tattoo—
Love will show him what is true!
More The Whirligig #254
More Writers’ Pantry #8 at Poets and Storytellers United
Posted on February 23, 2020, in light verse, Rhyming poetry, The Whirligig and tagged bathroom, blind, hanging, happy, head, mirror, morgue, show, sideways, sipping, tattoo, walking. Bookmark the permalink. 11 Comments.