A Chinese Cemetery
smoke trails the sky
over the cemetery
hell money burns
casting a misty layer
between this world
and the next
but not its reality
even after death
you need money
they reckon
stacks and stacks
they burn
every stack twenty million
everyone wants
their late next of kin
to be billionaires
to be rich
of course they wish
in turn they would
be made rich too
through their proxies
in the next world
at funeral they would
even burn paper mercedes
rolls royce, bungalows
computer, washing
machine, television set
well you name it
they have it
for the departed
need them like
they were still alive
they had buried
their dead but never
their memories
they trail the smoke
to the hearts of
the departed
a thin line between
this world and the next
after the visit,
[...] Read more
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Added by Poetry Lover
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