Black

I figured this whole thing out in my uncle's truck, on the way back to our hotel, while my dad and uncle were making loud jokes, and my mom was trying to sleep, and it bugged the crap out of me until I recorded it in some fashion.

We smooth our black clothes,

We fix our groomed hair,

And we open the doors,

To see what waits there.

 

And we cry our fake tears

And we frown our fake frowns

And we speak our fake words

And we slump our 'sad' shoulders.

 

And we dry our fake tears

And we hug our fake hugs

And we thank our fake friends

And we make our real exit.

 

And the staccato clicks of our heels fade to black

As we walk away

And never look back.

Author's Note

This is about...Well, me. Yesterday, my great, great-aunt died, and today was her funeral. I never liked her, but I dressed up and played sad, and this is basically about that.

Reviews

[Susan]

Wow.... this was good.... I have been there my great grandma died.... i didnt really like her and i didnt really know her.... so yeah i played the game too.......

[A Spectacular Case]

The ending of this is perfect, well done.

[PianoandPage]

i think this is pretty brilliant.

i love how this is innocent yet cynical and oh so brutally honest.

[FuMiko]

I like it-- but I seriously wish you would stop editing it.

[Orlando Murcia]

Wow!

This was an intense poem
I loved everything about it

My condolences to you I am sorry your uncle died

Great work