Cabaret Girl Dies on Welfare Island

I hate to die this way with the quiet
Over everything like a shroud.
I'd rather die where the band's a-playin'
Noisy and loud.

I'd rather die in the way I lived, —
Drunk and rowdy and gay!
God! why did you ever curse me
Makin' me die this way?
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.