The Hearse

Suddenly I awoke, finding myself

In the back of a run-down hearse,

I am not ashamed to admit that I 

Was more than a little frightened,

I knocked, I banged, with all my might I tried

To free myself, but all I heard

Was the reply of a straightforward type,

The driver, sordid but cheerful,

"Don't fight it," he said, "it won't help, you see

"The doors are locked from the outside,"

"Where am I?" I replied, startled and stunned,

"And how on Earth did I get here?"

"Well," he said, "this is Life, and you were born

"Here just like everybody else,"

"Where are we going?" I queried, afraid

To hear the answer he would give,

"We're on our way to the grave," he explained,

"For an appointment we can't miss,

"Sometimes I take a shortcut, sometimes I

"Take the long way, but I'm never

"Late, and, no matter how long the trip takes,
"I always find the best way there,"

Depressed, downcast, resigned to my demise,

I sighed and told him, "Take your time,"

"Ah, my friend," he said, "the problem is that 

"Our journey is all downhill and

"This car has no brakes to speak of, your own

"Momentum will carry you there,

"And the undertaker, that greedy sot,

"Be sure he always gets his man,"
I heard the sound of the bereaved, weeping
As the procession motored on,
So many crying eyes yet unaware
That they shared my destination,

Suddenly we hit a rough patch of road,

Full of potholes, and I figured,
"Where I'm going, what difference does it make

If the ride is comfortable?"