EULOGY

My existence is hanging on a thread,
I am one step away from death,
Who will be beside my bed?
When I breathe that final breath?

Will I go out as a famous POET?
So everybody in the world will know it?
Before my soul returns to the sun
And watched in fire by everyone.

And when I'm in my box
Who will darn my socks?
Or will they eulogise my leaving
With only twenty people grieving?