Funeral Collage

Funeral Collage

She was so good to her slaves
So many came today, just to make sure

The voicemail pinged and I feared she’s still here
Life is loss and she was a winner

How could she die? She was meaner than anyone
Still generous to a fault, and she had plenty

Finally someone got her hair right
But that dress?

Can I forget her? I try
Life is short, death is sure, seeing her, I’m certain

She could make you bleed without wounds
I loved her; she never said it

Can’t recognize her now, can’t recognize myself
We’re doing fine, not dead yet, thanks

Where do she think she went?