HIS FINAL CURTAIN ( JUST A STORY )
He left a messageNo one to come
He'd lived a lone
No cared when he
Were a live
Stood to reason
The no one should
Care now he were dead
Finally out of it
One who did
Time to time
Pop round said
To him
'' We liked you ''
Then in the same
Breath qualified it
With , '' We are using you ''
His face that had lifted dropped
Back down to where it belonged
Smile frozen , died , even before it were
Reilly a live alive
Thus it was ever so fore him
He wrote in his note
'' No flowers so words no speeches ''
'' No music ''
'' Save me from the hypocrisy of those
Who laughed at me when I were a live ''
Treated him with contempt they felt he deserved
Took advantage of his foolishness
Made him aware of what an idiot he were
Of that there was no doubt of that was he
The undertakers were instructed to take
His box and put it no the place provided
Then leave , shutting and locking the doors
They shut the doors and locked as requested
He stood by the doors satisfied that his going
Would not be interrupted by those who had
Better places to be
Then at three P M
Through the looked doors a kind of mist came
Through crematorium doors
He stepped back found him self standing by his box
The mist changed in to human forms
As one they spoke
'' Did you think we'd let you go with out a word ''
'' Our friend ''
From all over they came none local
It has to be said , as he wonted none
Shook his hand
And thanked him he thanked them all
Flowers from all over their cents filled
The crematorium
Some one sang a song
Others joined in
The more songs from afar were sang
No one cried fore the occasion was one of celebration
Then the time came 3 30 PM
Those who came in the power of thought
Became a mist as they came
The crematorium , were empty once more
Apart from the box the now flowers
Yet the cents could be clearly smelt
The crematorium attendants were somewhat
Baffled , as they had been informed no one were
To attend no music no flowers
Yet they had clearly heard voices and much singing , the cent
Of flowers filled senses
Very strange indeed
Who believe them
After all they did not believe them self's
Ken D Williams
The Dyslexic Writer
Poetry by ken d williams
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Written on 2012-07-01 at 21:12
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