Epitaph

I wonder
how much of
me is
           You
and
            You
and
            You

When I
die as I must
When all my
lives are used and
they move my
shell from
room to
                 Hell

Will they point their
tortuous fingers and say
“Look!  There is that
piece of Him.  The one we
thought long gone.” 

Will they cluck their
fatuous tongues and say
“Look!  There is that
bit of Him.  The one we
feared misplaced.”

Will they shake their
adipose heads and say
“Look!  There is that
part of Him.  The one we
knew was lost.”

Or

Will they simply
stand and gape
at the motley
                           Moggy
cold and hollow
found too late

c.sdmrogers 2008