The Life Song

First you start in the 

Womb then hang a 

Right for the tunnel,

An automatic funnel

Which will squeeze 

You like toothpaste 

Into light.

Then that's where 

You'll stay for the 

Rest of your days 

Obsessed with the 

Tunnel you traveled,

While your lifespan 

Unravels and you 

Unconsciously yearn

To make your return 

To the womb.

But you never will 

And the count of 

Your days in the sun

Slowly clicks down to 

None and time 

Finally comes to 

Funnel you, not 

Back to the womb

But to the much

Colder dark of

Your table for one 

In the loneliness 

Of a tomb.