Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
The Funeral of Daniel Adams

We gather today,
Under granite sky,
To mourn and pray,
To celebrate and cry,

Daniel was a haunted soul,
Who loved his friends and kin,
Weight of the worlds toll,
Who bottled it all within,

An keen eye for art,
For beauty, music and life,
A large, giving heart,
Watercolored with strife,

Last time we spoke,
He promised he was okay,
Even ended on a joke,
Thinking it a good end to the day,

Daniel thought everyone was lying,
Wanted him around to use and pity,
Inside he was crying,
Hours, absently cruising the city,

Always answered his phone,
Any hour of the night,
Forgiving, but not one to condone,
Always had my back in a fight,

In the end,
He never sought care,
Only others he’d defend,
His plain truth, life isn’t fair,

Given this world a lot of good,
Even lost, he was there,
Lost in would’ve and should,
A dreamer, one to dare,

He dreamt of peace,
Of distant shores and bays,
His demons shackled, no cease,
Screaming at them in empty hallways,

I wish he sought someone out,
Reach out, when he was drowning,
Backup in his mental bout,
Before dark thought started crowning,

I would’ve listened,
If you needed aid, or to cry,
Now our eyes glisten,
You didn’t have to die,

You left a hole,
On my phone but not here,
Not just your own time stole,
Leaving us sorrow and a tear,

Celebrate your life, weep your death,
I wish you decided not to leave,
Shaking under my breath,
We love and grieve,

Just another year...
Instead we sing your song,
Thinking you’d always be near,
We’re confused, scared, hurt, we were wrong,

You were a good son,
A good brother,
Quick with a joke or pun,
Preaching peace among one another,

But drowned in his demons screams,
Droning out the song he sung,
Haunted in fever dreams,
When he turned his own gun,

Daniel, you know me,
I don’t easily rattle,
Just can’t believe I didn’t see,
Grieving you lost your battle,

We’ll always have your memory set,
Venting, emotions to release,
Know we’ll never forget,
Wherever you are, find your peace,
if i died tonight, would you miss me?
would you say nice things at the funeral
and tell people i had a beautiful soul
or would you tell them that my thoughts were troubled
and you helped to calm the waters

would you tell them i died too young
or would you say that i had plans for living
would you say how i always looked on the bright side
or would you explain that i had a dark side
only you could see

would you recall the memory of the day we met
or would you tell them the pieces we shared
talk about the first time we kissed
or the first time you asked if i was okay

if i died tonight, i'd want you to be honest
just don't give all the good parts away
thinking about what people would say about me if I died right now. especially one person, who knows me better than almost anyone. wondering if they would gloss over my rough bits and paint me as a blank angel-fairy child.
Dear Emory,  we have come today

To honor you, this special day

And maybe with these words you'll be

Much closer in each memory

Throughout your life you've worked so hard

To sew and reap and keep the yard

A man of hard work, sweat and toil

You plowed the land and tilled the soil

Your name was known all over town

When there was work, you could be found

Constructing houses, barns and roads

And hauling wood in heavy loads


And then, Irene, your loving wife

Would keep your home life free from strife

Your children fed and taught, with love

And guidance from the Lord above

So, now they've grown up and moved on

Their children's children carry on

The legacy that you began

So long ago as a young man

Did you imagine all the ways

You'd get to carry out your days?

The folks you've met and tried to show

That life gets better as you grow

And working hard can keep you young

We all should hope to live so long

You've seen so much change through the years

Lots of laughter and some tears

You always tried to be so tough

But Grandma, she would call your bluff

And bring wee kittens home for you

To prove you were a softy too

As wife to your grandson I've seen

The look, as your blue eyes would gleam

Remembering the good old days

Of slower times and kinder ways

Oh how I wish that I could know

The view that those eyes see right now

As friends and family greet you where

There's beauty that's beyond compare

So Emory, we'll try not to grieve

As this, our earthly home, you leave

We'll say goodbye, and miss you though

Until it is our time to go
This was a poem eulogizing my grandfather-in-law ~ July 4, 2003
[ @GopalMaharjan, other fellow writers and, authors. ]
@GopalMaharjan, other fellow writers and, authors.
I see you there
My true words and feelings. It hit me hard that I had to quit writing. Now nothing makes good sense or feels familiar. Just sorrowful and empty. https://m.facebook.com/VenjencieCliftonArnold
Zachary Lyons May 13
She was Beautiful while She breathed
While Light still filled Her eyes
And Blood still pulsed through Her heart
But now, after life, She is Her true Self

Her bones no longer ache
Her mind no longer breaks
Her heart may cease to beat
But Her love for Me is eternal
As My love is for Her

Soon We shall meet again
As if We never Parted before
Not even for a moment
O, how I long to hold Thy hands once more
co'brien May 10
tell me, gatsby—I know thee well—
what fate of ours do the stars foretell?
fantasy and reality—wherein do we lie,
thus deceived by passion’s sigh?

oh—but you’ve told me before,
what the world has in store
for those like us who live content
with fancied ideals set in cement

that cursed or blessèd day
when you faded far away
falling further in a pool
while i sat here on a stool

alone and by myself
sequestered on a shelf
stored for someone else to see
my wretched tale of misery
Ronnie Mar 24
She was a stray airplane in the sea of stars
An imposturous glimmer of hope
With no true end or destination
Destined to float among the lights, alone

Or so she thought as she wrote it down
Sealing the edge with the sad remains
Of wasted birthday candles
The final goodbye to the golden days

Prodigy at first, prodigal at last
A soul lost on the way to find a meaning
Searching for the faintest sign of a beginning
With her writ of passage left behind

The death of the author means
A rebirth for all things familiar
The return to a garden of thought
And the flowers in full bloom.
Attempt at an elegy. I was told to stay away from the abstract, but I couldn't help myself.
Today is a bad news day
And, despite the outward folding memories
Seeking a place for themselves,
Probably no time for a Poem. But,

Only ten minutes ago I walked a hillside,
For the first time
Knowing you were gone,
And the wind found me and made me cry.

It is in the voice of the tongue caring lies;
And the quiet whispers which ask the most.
As you always said, Mate, after asking the right question
Life really is just a question of answers.

I miss that memorable night of comic, even cosmic highs,
With some vintage Port and board of cheese,
You took up the Times and said with with throw away ease -
“ Finally, Life As We Know It is over... well, it's no longer in the papers at least”.
Great Pal, raconteur, Folk music enthusiast, and Port drinker. Cheers, Pete!
Lost Soul Mar 5
I....I can't breathe
It all started when my feet hit the floor
I walked out of my room and heard whispers
You no longer look at me anymore
With every step I took
I wanted to cry out
My legs just shook
I went back to my room
I can't decide whats better
a coffin or this tomb

I feel nothing... absolutely nothing

I cried it all out the night before
So I sit at my computer and write a little note
This time my words won't be ignored
As I write my heart beats faster
DOES ANYONE CARE!! DOES NO ONE NOTICE?!?
Look.... I want to apologize to our pastor
You'll  stand up on stage
to say some half *** message
While my mother cries
as you read the rehearsed words on your page

How many people showed up?
Or did people stay home
because I was a **** up ?
Did he come?.. see he was my last straw
Did he look at my casket and wished he would've  texted me back
when I reached out vulnerable and raw
Did he cry?
I hope he did
cause he gave up on me
so i figured, why even try
I'm sorry to my sister
The pain got worse..I stopped talking
every word was a tongue twister
I prayed for the end...and it came
My cries echoed off the walls
To say my death was an accident
would be just to avoid the blame

Yes I believe God was with me that night
The demons left when he came down to hold me
His tears washed away the hurt
As my lungs finally gave up the good fight
He spared my soul ...well what little was left
I'm in the clouds now
Wishing my life wasn't a victim of theft
This is a poem that I wrote based on an actual suicide note I wrote on 10/25/18. Thankfully I'm in a better place now but i still felt the need to share this.
MJL Mar 2
A stiff in the corner
A stiff in a pew
Watch the parade
Formality on cue

A choreographed dance
From station to station
First to the church
Then dirt destination

Like hospital corners
Clean little lines
Sanitized process
Dressed to the nines

Death can rub off
As every ghost knows
A sickness to catch
It seeps in your clothes

Orderly duty
Sterilizing the end
Except for our thoughts
Would never offend

The cliquing and pooling
People masking their eyes
The family alone
Will look to the cries

A lifetime of sharing
With nothing to say
Thoughts sprint to the bar
To silently pray

Bagpipes have started
It’s time to decide
Pay some respects
Or silently hide

Weak at the wall
Will flies to the door
Avoids every handshake
Just looks at the floor          

Dotting the “i”
Think neat tidy passing
A check box is ticked
Life’s not very lasting

A stiff well-dressed drink
A stiff well-dressed friend
Worth more than a nod
On cowards choice wend


© 2019 MJL
I should have said something, said the Irishman.
Next page