Fertile soil

A fun poem for Friday night

I wonder whether feelings or a numb

Mere vegetable existence is best

A fish doesn’t fear the whale’s mouth that comes

Like the Grand Canyon to a faller’s rest

And does it matter once you pass the test

And spawn as you were meant? And anyway

Whether you do or don’t you’re just a guest

A machine with your plug pulled out one day

A seed that lands, takes root, is pulled away

Prematurely by hands of fate, the thumb

Down pointing to the soil that teems restless

A billion brown jaws await their payday

Denied for now, but patient and then some

Brainless, painless, and by us, unimpressed

Author's Note

No original thoughts, just typical death-related poetry!