18+ a poem about a man who must take care of the plans for his wife's funeral. |
-Her Burial - by Keaton Foster She The one The only My love Is dead Deceased Rotting meat Devoid of a soul Removed from her role She took one to the head Fired in anger She was always Mad at herself I’ll miss her Not her drama She was a monster But quite frankly So the hell am I We were a match Two perfectly Fucked up people Surviving life At least for a time I got the call I was gone Out of town Far away Her father said She’s dead My child Your wife The love of our life She blew her head off There is nothing left At least nothing To make sense of He added Come home And say goodbye Place her in the ground I won’t be able to attend A father should never Under any circumstance Bury one of his children I assured him that I could Quickly I made my way Back from that place I arranged it all Leaving no detail aside Her burial A perfect send off The priest said Here she lays One of God’s lost Now so easily found She died as she lived Now with him She will find rest Feel no sorrow Not an ounce For those of you who remain The ones she left behind The ones meant to live Long after her demise Will somehow be fine The priest further added A hearty Amen Her distracted brother And I The only two who came Easily shared in the lie After all had gone And I was all alone I threw in some dirt And added this From this world You have chosen to depart A bullet to the brain What a terrible way What a mess you made I will forgive you Because I am like you I know how you suffered Because of course I still do I am stronger at this time Even though you are gone Even though you left me Rest in peace Whatever the hell that means… Her Burial Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2014. |