fine day for a Funeral
Published January 8th, 2008 in verseDearest, if you’re reading this
I may be already dead
My wrists are already red
The fish are already fed
“Hope is but a waking dream”
That’s what Aristotle said
That’s why I’m waking up in dread
And my forward feels like lead
It’s a fine day for a funeral
Be careful where you tread
Trust is all in your head
So do just as Papa said
Dearest, if you think this dim
By layers you’ve been misled
That is not what I just said
Start all over hope instead
Are you hungry?
Live like you’re fed
Have no money?
May God imbed
All alone?
Then thee I wed
Share your bread
Slide your sled
Make your bed
Lead or led
Like Papa said
Beloved, if you care enough
You’ll read between the red
It’s a fine day for a funeral
But then I’m not really dead
Kill the past and live for the future.
melancholy hope
A death worth dying for…
nice write.
seasons change, leaves on the trees die, and they are birthed again. much more lively, full of color and beauty. and guess what? the season changes again and so do the leaves on the trees that we adored to see.
hmmm… don’t know if that made sense, but that’s what went through my head after reading this.
thanks for the inspiration