My Requiem

Black black black.
Not a single thread of color
Heads bowed so i cannot see faces
That are hidden in the shadows.
But there are some who mock grief
With thier lying sentiments here
It makes me sick.
I wish they would go away.
Rain falls, gently, gently
Against the upheaved ground
Making the air smell like dirt.
The preacher droning on about
An everafter.
And People lying, lying
Through pretty teeth and careful makeup.
Showing just the right amount of tears
For the occasion.
Too many would be vulgar
All this I see.
From my place by the headstone.
A pretty, pretty thing.
With a not so pretty meaning.
With the preachers final word
The first shovel is lifted.
The first clumps of dirt fall
On the not so empty coffin
Thump, thump, thump
Goes the dirt
Unforgiving
Reminescent of those in my life
Who cared not for me.
Young heart broken
By the world.
The thread of life snipped too soon.
This is my funeral.
It came to early.