"Better himself than all of us."
Oh, how cordial for him to hush
one mouth rather than an innocent mass.
The only loss here is in the band's brass.
Indeed, how selfless to take his life
neatly, by rope instead of by knife.
Silently, swift--no outcry or rush;
no scream escapes from a hanging hush.
And peaceful! he sways in a gentle beat
vacant and resting in a constant repeat.
"He got what he wanted, you know, after all,"
Of course! His dream: to be a rag doll.
His whole life served under this modest act,
no doubt he already realized that fact,
and predicted his own hand would always betray
the prior effort of life before judgement day.
What a funeral this is--so uplifting, it seems,
that a death of a friend becomes what he dreams
and the spectators delight that he is now better
off forfeiting life than embracing a debtor.
He did it so well--that is to say
that taking a life is an art, by the way.
Funerals, I've learned, are not for goodbye,
but instead for the living to hang a loud sigh.