Articles, Poem

Poem: The Gravedigger

He was a gravedigger who made little a day
And for money and prosperity, he would pray
Stuck in a job he could not break free
He was a servant to the dead for eternity
Until one day he wished for a mound of gold
The life he truly desired he would behold
For a decade past 2010
And he would become one of the wealthiest men

The illness swept the world, people enraged
However, he was secure, his empathy caged
Only to deal with the dead that would come
The bodies came in one by one

And few would listen to the doctors of the time
So one by one each would die
And the gravedigger so busy all day and night
Became overrun with a selfish delight

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