Eight nails in the coffin

The casket lid would be nailed shut early in the life of Tom Burdett,

He made every wrong choice and his early demise was a sure bet.

The first nail was chosen as he learned to smoke a cig,

A piece of paper rolled around some tobacco leaves and twig.


He started at the age of ten or so,

Into a fake adulthood did this boy blow.

Growing up too soon and graduated to drink,

His beautiful color turning grayish instead of pink.


The second nail came soon after, when he took to rum and coke,

He wanted so much to be liked, just one of the guys, a real bloke.

The third nail quickly followed as the drunken rages grew,

He punched his girl friends with rough sex, they shared the black and blue.


The fourth nail came through no fault of his own,

Into a conflict of war his soul was torn, gone was his soul.

He saw too much blood and lost to many friends to this war,

His soul was grounded no longer able to be free to soar.


The fifth nail of his coffin came from an addiction to a drug,

Sometimes so devastating his body fell, no one to hug.

He was battered and torn, his mind attacked by a wrecking ball,

He was being set up for the ultimate dead end, a frightening fall.


The three nails followed with a horrible shriek,

His body filled now with poison as dirty dishes in the sink.

Finally in the hospital he started to fade,

When he died into a coffin his body was laid.


He reached for heaven but a man in a devil’s mask reached out his hand,

He now plays a mean horn in the depths of hell in a tormented rock and roll band.

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