R I P

There are too many R I P situations in life,
those “really insane prophets”
who can’t let you enjoy life
without making you worry
about something you didn’t even want to know.

Why can they put on a clown suit
tell about doom with a few jokes?
I want to see warning labels
written in crayon and mistakes.
Have morticians dressed
like giant pink bunny rabbits,
news reporters take a pie in the face
and do silly imitations of farm animals.

Do I really care that my food has junk in it
as long as it taste good?
How come the only cure the politicians have
for when things sound bad
is to merely confuse and not tell the truth
instead of cheering us up
with some comic act that makes it all fun.

After all I might know
that I’m not going to live forever,
but why not smile along the way,
giving me a rubber chicken and box the giggles
when stuffing me in that box
so I can go out with some laughs,
keep the party going despite
the lousy things going on,
because who needs to die from boredom?