literature

Insensitivity

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ScRamb1ed's avatar
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Published:
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Literature Text

This is an awfully happy funeral;
No one's wearing black.
The crowd has left their tears at home;
No one's looking back.
They congratulate the relatives
(who of course don't take offense).
They act like merry party-goers;
Where's their common sense?
As the one they're supposed to be mourning,
my patience is wearing thin.
What horrible respect they show for the dead;
they're seated on the coffin!
Now they've been asked to say a few words,
they're singing and cheering with glee.
What horrible respect they show for the dead,
what horrible respect for me.
Before you send me to a therapist, please allow me to explain myself. This poem has absolutely nothing to do with death. It's about improving at something and getting compliments that make it seem like you weren't good at it before. It stings, doesn't it? (I'm sorry if I don't make sense right now. Just roll with it.)
© 2013 - 2024 ScRamb1ed
Comments1
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Ponypoetry's avatar
I understand, great poem