If you don’t see me tomorrow
you will know where I’ll be.
Not that it matters so greatly,
I’m probably out to sea
For I enjoy the cradling of the waves,
as it rocks me towards the setting sun,
I will beast the cannon to my head
and the day will at last be done.
All you have to do is buy me flowers
and leave them on the ground,
for I will come and get them
when it begins blowing off my mound.
My absence may seem abruptly departing,
but I shall return in bittersweet haste
to collect my belongings on display,
so come morning won’t be waste.
When the sea starts to spray so enticing,
I hope you won’t think of me.
For I will be safe and sound
sailing under the depths of sea.
I know I left behind unmerited plenty,
and I pass with one last plea.
This will be the final thing I leave you,
this letter by me.