Tattoed


I've never seen a tattooed corpse,
And I think that's why I'm scared.
No one lives forever;
No one seems prepared.

But tattooed bodies--
Illustrated, written on, art--as they would seem,
Are just the same as blank ones,
Word by thought by dream.

So what is the real difference?
Why can't I make a choice?
Am I worried that what's on my body
Will not match my voice?

And, then, what does the Bible say?
Did Jesus have one, too?
It's thought he might have on his thigh.
But if not Him, then who?

I've never seen a tattooed corpse.
I know I will one day.
Ignoring the chance to make my choice,
This is all I have to say.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem