Death via gunplay and whacko
Can be any American’s fate.
We just hope the nutcase who shoots us
Takes a minute to dress for the date.
No need for a suit or tuxedo.
A tee and torn jeans will suffice.
But don’t let some freak with a bare butt
Be the loony who puts us on ice.
Though we recognize death as the ultimate
Practical joke nature plays,
We don’t want some weird punchline/headline
To herald the end of our days.
Bad enough that we know in advance
We’re all bound for the same sad event.
We prefer that our causes of death
Not be causes for rude merriment.
NOTE. This is one of the contributions included in Chris O'Carroll's recent Kelsay Books collection The Joke's On Me. See News secton for details.