• Theyll read this poem over my casket.
    There will be a stone to bare my name.
    Itll smell of formeldihyed and alcohol.
    There will be no one left to blame.
    I wont forget those who helped me,
    as I took my final breath.
    The ones who pushed me to ripping
    my still heart from my chest.
    Mother wont cry after a drink.
    Shell play nickback at the service.
    The funeral will go quite smoothly,
    And my love will plant white roses.
    My best friend will know I hate lillies
    and shell use daisies instead.
    Shell be rather pleased with herself,
    Though crushed that I am dead.
    Thell dig the grave a bit deeper,
    my sister will give me back my things.
    My daddy wont even come.
    They wont let church bells ring.
    My friends will know better than
    to let them burry me in the light,
    theyll have a night time funeral.
    Deep inside I know that I did what is right.