Futile Funeral
Futile funeral
Full of feverish people
wanting out of the doors
Don't want to deal with their ever increasing sores
'What's the point? ' They ask
All in their masks
Drinking from their flasks
Trying to drink away the pain
Acting like they care
Acting like they have good thoughts to share
They just want to leave
And let that body rot
In the ground of the others that have been forgot
What a pity
A Futile Funeral it is
Yes indeed
Futile funeral
Full of feverish people
wanting out of the doors
Don't want to deal with their ever increasing sores
'What's the point? ' They ask
All in their masks
Drinking from their flasks
Trying to drink away the pain
Acting like they care
Acting like they have good thoughts to share
They just want to leave
And let that body rot
In the ground of the others that have been forgot
What a pity
A Futile Funeral it is
Yes indeed
poem by Jessica Stubbs
Added by Poetry Lover
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