That old Grim Reaper came and looked for me
and waited for six hours by my bed;
but I was gone, out on a shopping spree.
When I returned, that poor old guy was dead!
So live it up; all warnings just ignore,
Nobody will be dying any more!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cute little poem, Ron! What an imagination! The Grim Reaper himself is dead!
Thanks for commenting, Kim. I guess nobody else liked it.