funeral

funeral

A Poem by Moebia
"

my funeral.

"
bring on the funeral
wear your blackest clothes
and your saddest faces
I want to see you all weep

I want you all to remember
me, how you tortured me
robbed me of my innocence
I want you all to realize
what you made me be,
how you ruined me--
Papier-mâché bird
into cracked concrete

and if you no longer
love me, well I understand
that's not to say I care.
See, you've trained me
so well, polished me 
perfectly, to be the
sharpest knife of all,
to be the best killer
and I am a machine, 
the best kind of killer
to be, where feelings
don't exist, so excuse me
when I say I don't mind
stabbing your back 

That is what I have done,
take this funeral to be what it be!
a laugh in the face of my dam,
of the breeders who never 
seemed to care for me,
not while I breathed...

Look at me! 
I've never been so cold
in my life, yet I am so free
to be what I always wanted,
yes, you awful savages, weep.

© 2015 Moebia


Author's Note

Moebia
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Added on February 14, 2015
Last Updated on February 14, 2015

Author

Moebia
Moebia

Somebody's Nosy, TX



About
I am no writer of the sort. These are my musings, my arts, my flutters of thought. Call them what you may--but a poet is not anything that I am. I have been immersed in my violin for nearly a deca.. more..

Writing
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