Unforseen

Unforseen

Lowered quickly into the dirt,
The single mourner looks on in anguish.
No illness or disease had ever been portrayed,
Masked by smiles and deceit.
Flowers and tears, despondent and grave.

Unjust, conceited, no thoughts or heed
For whom cherished the moments, the seconds, the years.
Gone is the casket, no wood, nails but closure.
Only the memory of an era, an age, a phase,
A wayward dream it seems, now quiet.

The city of the dead is silent and still
But the mourner lives on for death comes and goes.
Life is in plenty, it will be ‘til calm.
Live life as it’s plenty, let the worms enjoy lunch.