Sugar Pills | The Bard on the Hill

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Sugar Pills

A euphemism coats a thought
That’s bitter, with a sweet,
So at the sound and swallowing,
It’s almost thought a treat.

The most acerbic deed is death;
It lands the final blow.
It’s caustic in its clammy touch,
More harsh than any foe.

For that, the euphemisms rain
Like skies at Noah’s flood,
To drown dire death in honeyed syrup –
Thorn buried. Left? the bud.

And so a man just “sprouted wings”.
Another “crossed the bar”.
She’s “six feet under” now, they say,
And that’s not very far.

He “left the building”, “breathed his last”.
And that one “bought the farm”.
We’re saying euphemistically
There’s not been any harm.

He “kicked the bucket”, “croaked”, “flatlined”;
And she “gave up the ghost”.
We cover up the deed so well,
He might send news by post.

She “went the way of all the earth”
And he “cashed in his chips.”
They might be sailing on a cruise,
Just like all other trips.

“His time had come”, “felt lightning strike;
The thunder he has missed.”
We find a million ways to say
This euphemism list.

No matter what you coat it with,
Just let it ne’er be said
In words that sharply pierce the soul,
“The fellow now is dead.”

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