The Poetry Kit

Competitions

Courses

Events

Funding

How-to Books

Magazines

Organisations

Poets

Publishers

Who's Who

Workshops

Home

Search

 

KEITH ARMSTRONG

 

SO DONíT COME TO MY FUNERAL


You never knew
how beautiful I could be.
You never saw
just how blue my eyes were.
You couldnít feel me fly
and did not sense
the passion in my beating words.

So donít come to my funeral,
donít come to my funeral.

You were never there
when my heart broke.
You didnít pick me up
when my ideals drowned.
You never got drunk with me
in the sunshine of my smiles.
You never felt the love in me.

So donít come to my funeral,
donít come to my funeral.

You hemmed in my free spirit
with your overeducated mind.
You trapped the birds in my poems
and caged my strong ideas.
You couldnít act the fool
for fear you lost your face.
You never risked a dance.

So donít come to my funeral,
donít come to my funeral.

You never studied the art of chance,
the sudden surge of love in a stranger,
the golden coin in an Edinburgh gutter.
Your education controlled your heart.
Would you save me as I fell from the sky?
Would you bleed for me?
I sense not, I sense you are cold.

So donít come to my funeral,
donít come to my funeral.
I donít want to see you there.

Because you lied to me forever.
Because you couldnít play a tune in your poems.

Donít come to my funeral,
donít come to my funeral.

 
 



Back Next