New York City owns an isle of shame
Where the dead are buried without a name
Prisoners stack coffins six feet deep
As politicians watch and poor folks weep.
For shame they call the island Hart
And from the morgue dead bodies cart
For shame they pile the coffins high
As if from Plague New Yorkers die.
Not far away from Pelham Bay
And Orchard Beach where children play
Within easy reach by boat from shore
No visitors allowed there anymore.
If funeral plans have not been made
Or no burial insurance coverage paid
To Hart Isle an unclaimed body goes
No names on the grave – lest anyone knows.
It’s time this Potter’s Field was closed
As some have Riker’s Isle proposed
At least it should be a memorial park
In which to visit ghosts when it gets dark.
Should Green Burials to you appeal
Let not politicians our land steal
We citizens have a right to demand
Burial rights on all government land.
John Crawford Copyright 2018 All Rights Reserved