I want to pay tribute, while in disguise;
a poem lamenting someone dead;
but since we know that no one dies;
this one’s for the living, instead.
Sometimes we pay grateful praise;
to others when they’re dead;
but, empty words can’t spirits raise;
so tell them; when alive instead.
We’re usually reluctant to bestow;
high praise, we often save;
but, who would really want to know;
they’re the best one in the grave?
It’s useless, praising someone dead;
there is no benefit to be gained;
if only I’d said it while alive, instead;
much love would have been maintained.
No matter the eloquence displayed there;
such fine words carry no power;
those who remain don’t really care;
its like heaping love on a wilted flower.
So, boldly I stand at the lecturn of life;
praising all the loved ones I know;
then I praise the enemies of my strife;
realizing it’s to One place we go.
In such a manner, I can definitely insure;
the passing on of my love;
and, in such a way, we may endure;
when we meet in the heavens above.