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Rated: E · Poetry · Family · #2205623
All that remains is the shell.
His death is just another theft
his cadaver in his expensive
stylish oaken casket
his handsome suit and tie
skin made-up to fool the eye
so those bereft can embrace the lie
the appearance that he is only sleeping
as they stand over him
friends and family weeping

A palaver of money and sentiment
for a soul long gone
the cares of this world
no longer belong
for he has passed beyond
we stand over a shell
and truth to tell
whether in heaven or in hell
he is gone
though the ripples may continue
from his little splash
in this pond

G. Gabriel
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2205623