complaint of the skeleton to time

take my love, it is not true,
so let it tempt no body new;
take my lady, she will sigh
for my bed where'er i lie;
take them, said the skeleton,
but leave my bones alone.

take my raiment, now grown cold,
to give to some poor poet old;
take the skin that hoods this truth
if his age would wear my youth;
take them, said the skeleton,
but leave my bones alone.

take the thoughts that like the wind

blow my body out of mind;

take this heart to go with that

and pass it on from rat to rat;

take them, said the skeleton,

but leave my bones alone.

take the art which i bemoan

in a poem's crazy tone;

grind me down, though i may groan,

to the starkest stick and stone;

take them, said the skeleton,

but leave my bones alone.

-ginsberg 1949