Funerals are for the living

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They'll stare at your casket
And cry
Like they weren't the ones
Who put you there.
They'll talk about how great your laugh was,
And how they liked your smile.
Even thought it was no where
To be seen for a while.
They're all in shock,
Not aware
That they're the ones
Who put you in despair.
Shook by the flood
Of blood
Down your face
From the blow
Of the gun
That they put into your hands.
I guess you can't spell funeral without fun,

I guess you can't spell funeral without fun,

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*be kind*

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