Issue 28 · One poem
My Funeral
Sitting at a funeral of a man you almost were.
I went to a funeral of a man I did not know.
Out of respect for his family, to it I did go.
The service was wonderful, the speakers were grand.
The talks and the songs showed their loved for this man.
Throughout the crowd, not a dry eye was found.
The quiet sniffling of noses were the only sounds.
Here I sat alone among many unknown people,
A large congregation of friends, under a single church steeple.
To morn of his loss and say their last farewells,
They comforted one another by saying,
All is well.
As I sat in the crowd my thoughts were of me.
Not in a selfish way, but of how my funeral would be.
As I pondered on this thought, fear set in my heart.
Who will come to respect me when from this life I depart?
The way they spoke of this man, and how he had treated them.
I doubt there was ever a person that he did ever offend.
Then I thought of my life, and of the many that I had wronged.
I hope someone will come to my funeral, and sing for me these songs.
Songs of praise, songs of love, and
Songs of gratitude to our Father above.
That into their lives he had be sent.
From the tears in their eyes, I know how much he had meant.
For he had always cared and loved everyone.
This is why today, so many did come.
For when I die if I want there to be,
Many people to pay their last respects to me.
Then I must live as this man did.
Always looking for someone to help,
Or looking for something to give.
If I treat people with love and respect,
Upon their lives I will have a positive effect.
Then in the end, when I at last see my maker face,
May he grant me a place by his side,
May I be saved by his Son's Grace.
“I went to a funeral of a man I did not know.”
My Funeral
§Clark J. Madsen - April 7, 1994