Very Bad Archive
Oh Gerbil
Patrick Popieluszko
Why does it hurt so much?
It feels just like a punch
To the gut and through the kidneys
My feet are buckling at the knees.
My gerbil died and what do I do?
The little thing that jumped like a kangaroo.
Should I bury it?
Would he like the dirt?
The past few days I didn’t care,
And now I’m pulling out all of my hair.
His cage was dirty and I never cleaned it
It turned into a filthy poop pit.
His body’s stiff and cage is still
It’s like he overdosed on a pill.
Was it my fault that he was dead?
I was just sleeping in my bed.
When his life slowly passed away,
I was dreaming about frolicking in the hay.
The cat had scratched him a month ago,
He still survived that crippling blow.
Until this morning when I found him cold
He wasn’t even that old.
I feel like crying, a little life gone
Poor thing that used to scamper on the lawn.
I want to cry
My eyes are dry.
But yet I blame myself,
As I pull the cage off the shelf.
For not letting him out
To run and shout.
I don’t know what to do
The best thing to do is shoo.
I have to get to school today
Before the bus drives away.
I quickly run out with his body in my hand
To pick a burial spot on this land.
At least to pay a final respect,
But a tombstone I will not erect.
Partially because I want to forget,
But mostly because there’s no time to fret
Life may go on as it always does,
But death always goes give us a buzz.
Patrick Popieluszko has published since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Patrick's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Patrick's latest works: