This time last week the Sausage Man

Was selling bangers from his van.

He cheered the locals with a joke,

His natty headwear was bespoke,

A new bandana sparkled red;

 

But now the Sausage Man is dead.

 

For all his quips and attire,

Thoughts of him will soon expire;

Yet in the town, grilled crisp and brown,

The sausages are still for sale.

What is the moral of this tale?

 

Unspoken truths are permanent,

While life’s a passing non-event.