You'Re Dead Poem by Paige Nielsen

I went to your funeral
dressed in my favorite pair of jeans.
The mourners whispered sharply, even though
I dyed them to make them extra black.
I didn't cry.
I felt numb as the chill rain fell.
The fog imbued a sense of fleeting.
Solitude-standing by a grave,
your name was on it.
I couldn't believe the lie.
But there came from your oak coffin-
I heard a whispered voice,
a voice from a life so long ago.
Roses' thorns make me bleed
like my heart, till it's cast aside.
I stood there a long time.
I stood thinking-I told you he was
bad news.
But you adored him, thought he was
an angel in disguise.
Then, you trusted him, instead of me,
your best friend,
when he said he wasn't drunk.
I saw the car
(your precious baby)
shattered.
You're dead.
I turned and walked away.
As I walked, I cried.