Funeral

I felt that no matter who reads the poem it will mean something to someone, enjoy.

 

Oak, maple, birch or elm; no matter you are dead

silk, satin, quilted or plain; for your head to rest

Your final resting place, your last bed

the beats have long stopped below your chest

 

In your finery you lie in wait

black suit, red tie, shoes polished, hair straight

Your mourners will come, one by one

In black they will gather, hidden from the sun

 

Your pictures sits pride of place

Your smug grin wiping away the tears

I will never find something to fill the space

we can no longer share our hopes and fears

 

They come, not one but all

filing in, rows and rows of hung heads

Some already start to bawl

it’s not long before sorrow spreads

 

Not all knew him for what he was

,a gambler, a chancer, a lover,a fighter

he never chose to bare his claws

but worked to make the world a little brighter

 

The final goodbye his hard to take

No words seem to remove the pain

my heart will forever ache

for I will never see you again

Author's Note

everyone can relate