Bette's Wall Street Journal

Bette’s Wall Street Journal’s sitting

Right outside her door,

Like every other Saturday

That’s come this way before.

 

Today, however, Bette’s paper

Likely won’t get read,

At least by her, because we learned

That, sadly, Bette’s dead.

 

We don’t need much reminding

That routines of life go on,

Despite the fact that someone

That we’ve known is newly gone.

 

Yet to see that paper waiting there

Just brings that message home,

Though some of us may stick around,

The subject of a poem.