as the coffin is lowered to the cold earth
what spoils will you receive, what worth?
as the bones sink into dark soil deep
what gifts will arise for you to keep?
as pale flesh rots and falls to wreck
what jewels will then adorn your neck?
at the weary departure of the hearse
what finest riches shall fill my purse?
when the final breath chokes in the throat
my mind turns to the house, car, boat
you turn a blind eye to the memories rich
now sunken flat in a murky ditch.
familiar smells gone with their face
their pattern of footsteps, now walking through space
the lilt of their voice, the heat of their skin;
bright colours they wore, and fresh hope they lived in.
the light in their eyes each time you would meet.
would you rather a empty bank account than an empty seat?