Been dead a while now,
Just lying in this hole in the ground,
My hair stopped growing a long time back,
But it got quite long, like my nails,
I imagined scraping them along the top,
Making my mark, though a little too late.

Time doesn't matter now,
It did for the first ten, twenty, thirty years
It's just the endless night now,
With the dirt and the water and the worms,
They picked me clean, totally naked,
Sightless sockets and a permanent grin.