So..quick 5 minute scribble, rate and give opinion please.
Leaves fluttered on the barren drive
Just before the funeral procession came through
And the clouds that hung low
Produced humid rain
That only irritated the guests
Who had merely come to grieve for the lost one.
Mud splattered the paulbearers shoes
As the casket was carried
Atop respected shoulders
Of grown men who would later break down
In the presence of sadness.
Women held their children close
The faces of the young, tear-stained but confused
Asking questions no one around wanted to answer,
Sometimes never having the answer in the first place.
And the Minister, in his black gown
Dressed for the occasion, and equipped necessarily
"we are gathered here today, to celebrate the life of this
genuine soul whom graced this great Earth with their presence"
His holyness inquires to those who wished to say a few words.
And I step forward, carrying a single rose and a faded journal
filled with poem after poem, each containing a piece of my soul,
I lay both on the casket, saying nothing but knowing all understand.
As the service ends, the wind again swirls
and the pages of the journal are overturned
revealing the words of love
written every which way across the pages, the last page
showing only a large, crudely drawn heart, with the initials of the deceased inside.
Leaves fluttered on the barren drive
Just before the funeral procession came through
And the clouds that hung low
Produced humid rain
That only irritated the guests
Who had merely come to grieve for the lost one.
Mud splattered the paulbearers shoes
As the casket was carried
Atop respected shoulders
Of grown men who would later break down
In the presence of sadness.
Women held their children close
The faces of the young, tear-stained but confused
Asking questions no one around wanted to answer,
Sometimes never having the answer in the first place.
And the Minister, in his black gown
Dressed for the occasion, and equipped necessarily
"we are gathered here today, to celebrate the life of this
genuine soul whom graced this great Earth with their presence"
His holyness inquires to those who wished to say a few words.
And I step forward, carrying a single rose and a faded journal
filled with poem after poem, each containing a piece of my soul,
I lay both on the casket, saying nothing but knowing all understand.
As the service ends, the wind again swirls
and the pages of the journal are overturned
revealing the words of love
written every which way across the pages, the last page
showing only a large, crudely drawn heart, with the initials of the deceased inside.