How is it they besmirch my name
With innuendos they have brought
Where I have planted Baby’s Breath
and typed each sacred random thought -
Why now do they assemble here -
in mourner’s clothes so void of glee
and wag their tongues in muffled tones,
speaking so past tense of me.
Surely these are not my friends
it must be family gathered here –
to visit me when time’s run out
expressing how they loved me dear.
1 comment:
As you're still here I'll tell you so, I love you tons my little Bro!!
Post a Comment