The Funeral Procession Poem by Randy McClave
The Funeral Procession
The funeral procession drove past my house
I bowed my head and I was quite as a mouse,
In a solemn prayer I gave to the sadly departed
As I knew of the sadness and remorse of the fainthearted;
One car after another I watched go down the street
As I still stood there in respect in this unbearable heat,
The cars that I counted they were over twenty-five
Sadly not one visited the departed when he was still alive;
So, there goes his procession heading to the graveyard
As though being led by weepers and the national guard,
I guess when he was living his life he was always misread
Now he is missed and remembered since now he is dead.
Randy L. McClave
A catchy title. Funeral procession is an occasion where hypocrisy tears its ugly head the most. Great poem. Kudos!
The cars that I counted they were over twenty-five / Sadly not one visited the departed when he was still alive; ... Marvelous expression to unveil the disguise of civilized society. Bold and beautiful, the form used skilfully. Thanks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 10:40:32 AM # 1.0.0.1119
i love this part -I guess when he was living his life he was always misread Now he is missed and remembered since now he is dead. and Sadly not one visited the departed when he was still alive; Like my mom always says dont give me flowers when im dead you had so many of chances to give me flowers and you never did so dont give me flowers when im dead