EXPOSING ALL MY FRAUD
The Grim Reaper crept to my door with his black cloak and his sickle.
In his hand my death warrant, signed and sealed for my convenience.
He issued me a summons, he had come to search my soul.
And in that scary moment, my whole life flashed before me,
Dripping sin and failure on the carpet of my condo.
He laughed a horrid, bitter laugh that echoed through the neighborhood.
He breathed his fire and hissed at me and beckoned me to follow.
My petty thoughts from yesterday, the hurts and the imagined slights
Reverberated in the sky like bitter vengeful fireworks.
The friends that I had frozen out resounded through the firmament,
The naked ones I had not clothed, the prisoners not visited.
They circled Mr. Death and I as we made the great descent.
The Grim Reaper crept to my door with his black cloak and his sickle.
In his hand my obituary, fresh from the press and dripping ink.
He issued me a summons, he had come to search my soul.
He hissed his words of censure, he was preaching to the choir.
They sentenced me to the river Styx and to the lake of fire.
And in that awful moment, my life replayed before me,
Dripping sin and failure like grenades upon my yard,
Shining a blinding spotlight, exposing all my fraud.
-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2008
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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