The Funeral - Poem by Chris Embrick1
Though I have been present at more festive occasion,
I confess that I came today of my own persuasion.
More for curiosity than reverence for the man;
and surely not to mourn or shake the widow's hand.
And not for doleful singing or posthmous confession,
And yet I am a party to this solemn procession.
And true I knew the man and we often socialized;
but if the truth be known his habits I despised.
But we never quarreled or came to words of strife;
though he was jealous man and guarded well his wife.
And no, I did not love her or come for what he left;
for she's too much like the man now eulogized in death.
And so I'm here and hes' there and it's not so bad a day;
And when the mound is rounded off I'll go my merry way.
And think nothing more of death or how the day will end.
The more I think about it, he never was my friend.
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