We need your bed Fred

 

We need your bed Fred

 

They bumped off Fred, because they needed his bed.

They tested him for MRSA when he went in to Hospital

but not when he was sent home.

So when he was taken back by ambulance

He didn’t really stand a chance.

His neighbour was met by a Specialist

in what field nobody quite knew

but they were greeted with concerned face

and an abrupt race to take him down to the end room.

You know, the one where everyone dies.

The one they bring the syringe driver into.

It’s nicer than the rest, that is when a confused gent

the staff with their patience all spent

isn’t walking in and out and shouting “Hallelujah!”

Fred had closed his eyes and had no intention of opening them again.

He didn’t want to see the shitshow that passed for life,

He was quite glad he’d never had a wife.

So this was it then?

Next stop the Crem

And then what after that?  

He’d stopped going to the Buddhists

because they kept saying he’d be coming back again.

The local vicar, who was a bit thicker

had promised an afterlife in return for a larger offering.

Fred had often dreamt of running off with the collection plate

and playing a game ‘The Frisbee of Hate’

He’d done what he could and he’d run the race

but now because of his age he had to turn face

towards the graveyard.

The inevitable finish line had arrived sooner than he’d planned.

They bumped off Fred because they needed his bed.