My Living Obituary

My Living Obituary

A Poem by T M Atkinson

Dearly beloved we are gathered here today,
To remember a man that would always put others before himself.
That you could trust with anything,
That would never dream of being anything else.
Well family and friends I´m hear to you all,
That everything you know of him is wrong.
All he did the people he claims he cares for,
I´m here to tell you it was an act all along.

He was a fraud and a fake,
He would rip open his heart for all but let no-one in.
But yet he had this amazing ability to be believable,
To allow your problems be like rain as the drops pierced his skin.
His eyes were always wide open,
Yet he could never see nothing at all,
The sun would always shine down on him,
He would always be there to catch you should you fall.

He was a b*****d a self righteous prat in private,
Yet in public he was everyone´s blue eyed boy.
I´m sorry if I offend anyone with my views,
But this is one blue eyed angel that I would´ve loved to destroy.
So please crucify me please I beg of you,
For I am no better than the man that lays here.
For he could do no wrong doings in your eyes,
But all he could do was reduce me to tears.

So why you ask do I hate this man,
This man you love this man that was your rock.
I couldn´t tell you honestly I don´t know why,
But maybe his death will make this hatred stop.
So dearly beloved we place our friend to the earth,
Ashes to ashes dust to dust,
We place his soul in the hands of the Lord,
And leave him to rot away...we must.

He left me a list of sorry´s to say,
To his wife and to his loved ones.
He´s sorry he couldn´t be a better husband,
He´s sorry he couldn´t be a better son.
So all I see now is the congregation crying,
And yet they can´t be blamed.
But me I´m different to all of you,
I discredit the man to hide my shame.

So who am I why do I say these things,
He was my friend my ONLY friend once before.
But he left me for a new life a new start far away,
With no goodbye to me simply a constantly closed door.
So who am I really look into my eyes,
Come on look deeper then you´ll start to see,
That man that we are gathered for to bury here today,
Why couldn´t you tell...that man is me.




© 2010 T M Atkinson


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Added on January 11, 2010
Last Updated on January 15, 2010

Author

T M Atkinson
T M Atkinson

Hull, United Kingdom



Writing