Poem about his own funeral

Silence.

They talk quietly about him.

He was young.

He loved life.

He had billions.

They are coming slowly.

They leave slowly.

Everyone wears black suits and black glasses.

Some wear to hide tears.

Some wear that no one sees that there are no tears.

There are some who rub their palms.

They secretly calculate how much they will get.

And he...

He turned out to be the smartest.

He climbed to the top of the hill.

And watched his own funeral.

Because of so much money,

he no longer knew who loved him as much.

Does anyone love and respect him at all.

Or they just love his money and his power.

He planned his funeral.

To save himself.

To see who is who.

Author: Musician

Thanks a lot for reading.

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