Should I say that there was grace
in her failings.
Should I casually lie
about tears cried and pride broken.
“She wasn’t all bad, not the worst”,
they nod and smile and again nod,
odd how none of them knew her.
Sunny day friends who bolted
at the sight of clouds.
She was graceless! a mean spirit.
And now she is dead, A corpse
in a coffin
lying on a bed as sunny day friends
file past and shake my hand.
“She wasnt the worst” they mutter.
Poor friends I think.
That harly knew her.
– Dave Kavanagh