Dead Home

A Graveyard is nothing but a home of the dead, made for the living.

- JadedAge

Selfishly I need a reminder of you for my own eyes to view,

I'll only look at it a few times a year and say I came to see you often,

I'll pay for a lot right next to you for myself when the time comes,

Only so that I can show how close I will always be to you,

Your body will start to rot and deteriorate,

You'll soon be just a skeleton down below,

But I'll still pay for flowers and balloons,

Hold gathers right above you.

I'll go as far as to say that I miss you,

Think that I'm talking to you when I lay out my worries to your gravestone,

Engraving only the best of things about you,

So that the worse of you could be laid to rest,

Laid to rest right with you.

If I put you in a Urn then I couldn't think of locking you up in a fancy chest,

So clearly I thought it best to leave your ashes in the living room,

Even though you are in fact dead,

I will claim that your soul is watching over us,

and that you whisper goodnight to me every night,

if things start to get a little weird,

I'll just say it was you changing things around, trying to communicate with us.

This dead home,

This home for the dead, was made for the people who are still living,

because without the memories of who they were to us,

they'd be as dead as there home,

visiting at an all time low,

it's too depressing they say,

It's not like they'll know...

Come back I say,

And leave this dead home,

Come back from your fancy coffin,

Jump out of the urn and be the life of the party again,

I miss you to pieces but I can't wrap my head around this,

Why did you have to go so soon,

I never got the chance to know you.

Know you for who you are and not just the writing on your head stone.

Come back to me and help me understand or i'll just have to feel like,

I selfishly need a reminder of you for my own eyes to view,

I'll only visit your grave a few times a year

And then feel guilty for not coming more,

I'll pay for a lot right next to you

For myself; when the time comes,

Only so that I can feel close to you,

Your body will start to rot and deteriorate,

You'll soon be just a skeleton down below,

But I'll still pay for flowers and balloons,

Hold gathers right above you.

I'll go as far as to say that I miss you,

Think that I'm talking to you when I lay out my worries to your gravestone,

Engraving only the best of things about you,

So that the worse of you could be laid to rest,

Laid to rest with you.

If I would have you in a Urn,

It would be because I couldn't think of locking you up in a fancy chest,

So clearly I thought it best to leave your ashes in our living room,

Even though you are in fact dead,

I will claim that your soul is watching over us,

and that you whisper goodnight to me every night,

If you don't come back to me,

I'll be forced to do what everyone else is doing beside me,

Grieve my loss and pretend to go back to society,

break down months later when I need you and you aren't there,

repeating this cycle until I find it in myself to visit your home of the dead,

Where there I will feel at ease,

telling you all of my problems and worries,

seeing your name somewhere and knowing that you were loving,

reading of who you were when you were once here,

Don't make me be like everyone else,

Just please come back to me!