The Rebel (Poetry)

06th August 2017
He leans in death
as in life he leant
not one to stand in line
he seems hell-bent
on going his own way
with attitude —
a quiet contempt for time

The stone is rough
his monument mean
and careless of its place
in death’s cold team
a game he won’t play
he’d rather brood —
reject neat-plotted Fate.