Trust me: you're dead
Surely shome mishtake?

Trust me, you're dead, buddy, from this moment on.
But what can you mean sir, my life can't have gone?
It has mate, believe me, you are quite deceased.
I know my own business. Your soul, it's released.
There must be an error, it wasn't my time,
I've got lots to live for, I am in my prime.
Ha-ha, oh-ho-ho, but do you remember
That doctor's appointment you made last December?
What? That was no more than some mild hypertension,
Cholesterol build-up, and water retention.
She told you to lose weight, not put on five kilo,
And carry on smoking and drinking, as if no
Alarms bell had rung for you. Face up to it, son,
Your number is up now, Your days are all done.
O ~ o ~
Inspired by a conversation I had with my doctor... more than once.

On the subject of the Grim Reaper, my father was quite tickled by this cartoon (first published in The Oldie in 2017), a cutting of which he kept on his living room wall until I took it down, after his own appointment with the scythe-wielding angel in 2020.
Thanks for reading
About the Creator
Raymond G. Taylor
Author living in Kent, England. Writer of short stories and poems in a wide range of genres, forms and styles. A non-fiction writer for 40+ years. Subjects include art, history, science, business, law, and the human condition.




Comments (12)
omg!! I love this.. lol
You are no more, you have ceased to be, you are an ex-person. Definite shades of Monty Python - loved it,
Raymond, please listen to the doctor and take care of yourself! We need you. I find it fascinating that your dad saved that cartoon. My mother did the same with the ones she loved.
Loved the humour and the cartoon too.
Why was he ticked? I felt that was funny hahahaha. Also, loved your poem!
Cleverly-written! Well done Raymond!
The cartoon is pretty funny, too.
This was nice to read and creative. Good sense of humour, the unexpected buddy even sounds friendly. This seems to be the topic of the month.
Loved the cartoon and please do take care of yourself, Raymond.
This makes me think of Monty Python's "Meaning of Life"--the poisonous feast scene where everyone calmly argues with the one with the scythe, continuing seamlessly as part of their dinner conversation even as they walk out of the house. Ah, the memories.
What a great reminder on these issues for men and women as well. You are one very creative poet. Good job.
Wow if I met him then I soon would be dead ha ha