At the Funeral
Deep blue sky,
With a few, gently floating,
Puffy, white clouds jeweled;
Smiling brightly, the Sun--
With his yellow and orange arms--
Everything warms up.
Standing at attention,
Cypress trees left and right line up;
In the background,
Bull elk sound their bugles;
While ravens pay their tribute.
On his tombstone,
Below the 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 .
Eagerly, he 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,
and trying to forgive,
Sigh, cry, and exult.
Above the ground, in Heaven,
Only God, Who hears and sees it all,
Knows the multitude of people
Who were hurt
By his utter pride and selfishness.
He lived for people alright,
For people to praise
And submit to him
At any cost, by any means...
Let his soul rest in peace.
In celebration,
Let us join the clouds, the Sun, the sky,
the ravens, the elk, and the trees.
The world is a better place without him.
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