At the Funeral
On his tombstone,
Under his name and dates,
This simple sentence is engraved:
"He lived for people."
It was true.
They were his reason to breath.
He lived for people alright,
But he didn't care about them
The very least.
He eagerly sought their praise,
Submission,
Their pats on the back,
Their acceptance, admiration,
Obedience, and claps.
He didn't hesitate to lie,
Deceive, compromise--
Even the highest standards,
Sell his family and friends,
In order to obtain
Power and praise.
Underground, feasting on his body,
Maggots merrily exalt his flesh.
On the ground,
Those who were deeply hurt
By his multiple double standards,
Hypocrisy, and broken words--
With relief at last
Sigh or cry.
Above the ground, in Heaven,
Only God, Who hears and sees everything,
Knows the multitude of people
Who by his utter selfishness and pride
Were hurt.
He lived for people to praise
And submit to him
At any cost, by any means.
Let his soul rest in peace.
The world is a better place without him.
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