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Hints Of Lavender And Violet
Who are these people
Why are they here
I see faces I've never seen
I hear voices I've never heard
Who are these people
Why are they here
Why do they form a single line
And stop one by one to stare so hard at me
Why do they mist me with dampness
As tears fall from their eyes
I know I look my best
For I'm dressed in my finest
My make-up applied professionally
My hair is styled so perfectly
I'm surrounded by hints of lavender and violet
The luxury and comfort of pure silk and satin
Who are these people
Why are they here
Who are these people
Why do they cry
lovely poem
never read anything like it. got to the end and said oh my gosh is she dead? went to the top to savor all the cool details. interesting perspective. i think i'll go write now!! : )
Tricia, this is quite haunting, imagining oneself as an observer at her own funeral. Well-written and very original.
Larry
A haunting poem, yet wonderful indeed. To portray your own funeral to your liking is something people do not normally do. Good work
Melissa Marina Flores
An eerie monologue of a corpse in his/her coffin's repose ?
At least that is how i view this poem, tricia.
Very meaningful..and definitely darkly brooding.
The sense of confusion and naivety of this persona is greatly felt, especially in the lines of refrain.
Smilesz.thanxs for directing me here to this dark one.
Wonderfully different theme .~!
I like it !!!
Tricia, unless I am mistaken, this is your wake you're writing about here. Very emotive, and I like your work. Email me sometime when you want to talk. Friends--Jess