No Stuff At Your Funeral
By Kevin Roberts
Just people and a casket, both matching charcoal black,
It’s all your friends and family, some from way way back.
They didn’t bring their favorite things, or any other stuff,
They came because they’ll miss you, knowing it would be tough.
There's no stuff at your funeral, it’s all still there at home,
It’s right there where you left it, some still shiny chrome.
It’s someone else's stuff now, unless they bring it to pawn,
And to think you used to worry, that someday it would all be gone.
You almost went to London, you almost went to Rome,
You almost went to Paris France, just couldn’t leave your home.
The watch you got from Grandpa, the antique from your mom,
That toolbox full of shiny tools, those tags from Vietnam.
There's no stuff at your funeral, it’s all still there at home,
It’s right there where you left it, some still shiny chrome.
It’s someone else's stuff now, unless they bring it to pawn,
And to think you used to worry, that someday it would all be gone.
It’s the time we spend with others, both family and friends,
This we need to cherish, before our whole life ends.
There's no stuff at your funeral, it’s all still there at home,
It’s right there where you left it, some still shiny chrome.
It’s someone else's stuff now, unless they bring it to pawn,
And to think you used to worry, that someday it would all be gone.
© 2022 Kevin Roberts
