Funeral Collage

She was so good to her slaves

So many here today, just to make sure

Always most kind to thorough strangers

Life was loss and she was a winner

How could she die? She was meaner than anyone

The voicemail came on and I thought, she’s still here

Does public transport really go this far?

Generous to a fault, and she had plenty

Finally someone got her hair right

When it’s over I don’t look back

I dream more than think about her

Can I ever forget her? I try

I loved her but she never said it

Life is short, death is sure, seeing her, I’m certain

She could make you bleed without wounds

After all that weeping something must remain

If they washed the truth over her I could bear it all

Can’t recognize her like this, but I don’t recognize myself

We’re doing fine, not dead yet

Most of us knew best what she wasn’t

Where did she go?