A lot of fuss
A lot of tears
A lot of people
A lot of money
A lot of time
And all for what ?
A lot of trouble
A little body !
A blob of protein
Fast unwinding,
A little corpse
Quick decaying.
No longer is it
Dear Father, mother
Or any other.
In spite of this
We must have
Consolations and coffins
Processions and Tombstones
Parties and mourning
Rites and rituals
Buried or burnt
Embalmed forever,
All for these little
Bloated bodies.
Sons remember
Grandsons little,
And after them
Are the dead forgotten,
Stones and bones alone remaining.
So is this not
A lot of nonsense ?
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