Dead

There you lay
Unwanted and forgotten
Your skin growing cold
Your body left to rotten
Vultures fly above
Smelling the air
As maggots begin to crawl
Through your mangy blonde hair
Your eyes are beady
Even glazed if you may
As your skin turns
An awful shade of grey
You're not here
But I'm happy you see
It's really kind of hard
To hide my glee
You're popularity is gone
No more is your thunder
Because now you're dead
And buried six feet under.