You survived the pathologist ordeal,
Organs removed and blood drained.
The verdict is out, "Died of a fatal shot."
You died too young because of crime!
The report notes, "A clean bill of health,"
You would have lived to a ripe old age!
Now your corpse must rot in a cage.
The slugs removed, to ballistics they go!
Your torso empty and organs replaced;
With old cammo inside they tie you with lace.
The stitches large for many bodies they do,
On one single "Post Mortem" day!
Left for the undertaker to take,
To your final resting place you'll go,
A tomb filled with maggots and worms,
Till you rise one day!
Dressed in your cammo standing on parade.
To be marched off to the promised land.
No hijackers you fear.
For GOD your master is always near!
Copyright ©1997 William Ernest Cox