The worst part of a funeral is not the sombre faces, Nor the awkwardness of people Who know not how to be at such a time, It's not the heavy sense of sadness and loss That permeates the air or the brash jollity of those Who over compensate,
It's not standing to eulogise my friend In so few minutes When he was so vibrant and ALIVE, Nor seeing in my mind's eye his face As he lay recumbent in the coffin's cushioned dark And airless embrace,
Not the sobs that came in public as I sat After giving his farewell my all, My first eulogy and sadly probably not my last, No, the worst, the most awful thing was the wet thump Of roses red falling on his coffin lid, I tossed a handful of dry earth,
It sounded better, Seemed more fitting, An example followed by others, A better more respecttful And indeed final fare well, Rest now Damien