If I should die before I wake,
all my bone and sinew take.
Put me in the compost pile,
to decompost me for a while.
Worms, water, sun will have their way,
returning me to common clay.
All that I am will feed the trees,
and little fishes in the seas.
When radishes and corn you munch,
you may be having me for lunch.
And then excrete me with a grin,
Chuckling "There goes Lee again".
(Lee Hays)
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