The Valley Of The Crematorium Poem by James Tipp

Once more you walk
Into the valley of death.
Made pleasant, clinical
Swabbed clean of pain
Unpleasant thoughts
Antiseptic and sterile.
Music cassetted for convenience
Repeats itself all day
Unaware of emotions
That live and beat
Within these hallowed walls.
Death made bearable!
Hiding its gruesome reality
Shielded from its inevitability,
We pass on through
Quickly quietly
Hidden from its starkness.
Should we question why
People are never made ready
Prepared to travel this route themselves?