Eulogy Of Truth

It’s funny how when

Someone we know dies,

They’re labelled as a hero

And built up in our eyes.

No-one is perfect

It’s a well-known fact,

But it’s as if when we die

All the living make a pact

To rose tint your life

And polish it till it shines,

Forget about your flaws

Mistakes and parking fines.

When you hear on the news

Of a young lad’s sudden death,

They cut out the convictions

Of GBH and theft.

“He was a smashing lad”

The neighbours will say,

Although he started fires

And beat up all the gays.

Uncle Thomas was a legend

Strong, kind and very tough,

But he had a drinking problem

And hit his wife, who was up the duff.

My mother was an angel,

A selfless caring soul

But fucking up her children

Was her lifetime goal.

My husband was a fighter,

A clever smiling guy

But he left me with two kids

A stack of bills and no goodbye.

Auntie Pamela

Will be dearly missed,

But she spent half her life

In pubs getting pissed.

We’re warping fact and fiction

When the eulogy is read,

It’s often a pack of lies

But don’t speak ill of the dead.