|- The Funeral -|
The sky is changing its colour
The earth feels fresh
The smell of jasmine filling the air
The candles have melted
But the wax turning hard
The mound of earth still afresh
Being walled up always
This may not be uncomfortable for her
Everything was fine
But the incense was missing
She hated that the most
Said it reminded her of the funeral of a very close friend
But now it wouldn’t matter
As she was six feet under and the incense wouldn’t bother Her.
Somehow i feel this poem needs some correction...