The Thinking Cadaver

Misery is all I feel
There I am amidst the stiffness
Well preserved but in decay
A metallic little door now opens
My cold body now fully exposed
Set ready on the table
Now receives the first slice
Starting on my frozen chest
Moving below my bum of might
Reaches now my chilly groin
My feelings totally indifferent
In fact downright nonexistent
For a cadaver as myself
Incapable of feeling slices
Incapable of feeling pain
Blood and nerves in total darkess
Shriveled and black as a furry carcass
Guarantee my cooperation
In the process of examination
In the form of autopsy