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Sep 2014
The hurse crept through in a thick haze,
I'd been holding this off for so many days,
The black turned the innocent white to grey slush,
The people gathered in gentle rush,
They wore flashes of colour teamed with monochrome,
A painted smile on ladies face,
Men had grown stubble,
Miles now seemed so so close,
The donations box rattled with loose change,
The crematorium seats squeaked,
My grandma held my hand,
My aunt held my back,
As I held myself together with sticky tack,
I walked by the coffin,
Death lay inside,
This small wooden box,
Didn't seem capable of life,
A phone rattled in the back,
Lively again, somebody was in demand.
Funny anecdotes were shared,
False smiles grew,
I looked at the coffin,
That's when I knew,
That the body in the coffin wasn't really you.
You were someone who would chase monsters away,
A man who would hold my troubles at bay,
Brush my hair the way no one else could,
Make all the evil no longer seem bad,
For that fragile body in those sides,
Will never be my dad,
Not when it's ashes,
Churned by the sea,
In my heart, you shall forever be.
Lydia Victoria Kate
Written by
Lydia Victoria Kate  20/F/Cornwall
(20/F/Cornwall)   
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