You dont miss the living , until they are dead
Come to the funeral with tears in your eyes
and soft thoughts in your head
You commiserate with each, other like you really care
But in normal circumstances you would lay their heart bare
You wax and you wane poetic about the one laying there
But for many when they lived you couldn't give a care
Now you stand up with speeches of thing they once said
Thinking all the while* Must not mess up this speech in my head*
When asked if you knew her you say very well
For words like that ... there should be a hell
The flowers ..the plastic..the tears freely flowing
Saddest of saddest is that ..... you are happy its not you going
You should have done more you say ..you didn't see it coming
How could you have when you were all running
To catch things for yourself and not pay attention to others
The true crime of passion is shared by you my brothers
 I am but  a memory...... and  soon will be forgot
 The things you will speak of me ....... will mostly be untrue
How my brothers and sisters ....can I live around you???