'Twas known to be a handsome lad, just on his way to church.
No plans to meet a savage fiend, one hiding in the lurch.
'Twas meant to be a merry trip - just across the weir,
No plans to meet a ghastly ghoul - a fiend one needs to fear.
His lifeless form lies festering - no sign of any breath.
An odor rises from his corpse, a sign of deadly death.
Hair and scalp thrown here and there by rats that like to play,
While maggots start their joyless task from night, well into day.
Nasty flies swarm on his tongue, still drooling near the drain,
While creepy bugs crawl through one ear - a shortcut to his brain.
His teeth lie scattered everywhere - like rolling of the dice.
His scalp appears as bloody bits - the work of four fat mice.
His nose and one ear missing - a sign of some dire deed -
Or perhaps they were a dinner for a street tramp in some need.
One bloody eye hangs on a thread - it dangles in the breeze.
A swollen tongue, one tale to tell, it soon will start to freeze.
His blood still trickles slowly - like some eerie crimson rain;
Though some's severely clotted, while most flows down the drain.
A grumpy gramps still wondering - why did this young lad die? -
A pure and holy father who never told a lie.
His baby, now an orphan, with no father who can raise
A blue-eyed angel worthy of all Christian love and praise.
He leaves behind a family that is doting and quite strong.
All know he will be remembered as a man who did no wrong.
His little puppy whimpering, no one to rub its ears,
Lies in his lonely basket, now full of fleas and tears.
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