How will you remember me?
My acidic verse or prose?
Or when you pricked your thumb
Upon a thorn
From this vitriolic rose?
My poems set as epitaph
Etched on to granite stone,
Will you shed a tear
Of vinegar
Whilst my skin decays to bone?
My pen did scrawl and scratch
Of history, life, people and birds,
Of comedy and tragedy
All captured
In my random words.
How will you remember me?
A funny man or a bore?
But never, ever
Remember me as;
A glory seeking whore!!
Phil Hall January 2014
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