Mummy

Disclaimer: This poem is not a suicidal poem. A reader found the poem offensive.  He didn’t know that I was being sarcastic. People do read things differently. I was trying to emphasize the coldness of winter. I guess I fail as a poet. I hope his “God” will pardon his impoliteness.

I stood by the train.

Wind is blowing.

Engine is rumbling.

It’s cold, very cold.

Two scarves unfold.

Just wrap it around me

like a

a bandage

and turn me into a

mummy please.