The funeral

My death would be a piece of news,

Or utmost a surprise or a relief

And in no way a pain or a grief.

Inmates would be busy for my dispatch,

Some would weep and some would be gloomy

As they are there supposed to.

Heirs would be busy in sorting my things.

To see me off, all are busy;

Thank God, I am not there to see.

08.02.2007