Authors: Graham Greene
In this World of My Own I found myself writing a bit of verse for a competition in a magazine called
Time and Tide
, but, needless to say, the paper never received it. It was about my own death.
From the room next door
The TV talks to me
Of sickness, nettlerash, and herbal tea
.
My breath is folded up
Like sheets in lavender
.
The end for me
Arrives like nursery tea
.