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An 1830 Funeral

Story ID:7087
Written by:bobby o'neill mitchum (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Poem
Location:Phenix City Alabama U.S.A.
Year:2011
Person:Self
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The Funeral Coach clipped clopped
slowly down the Cobbled lane,
the Corpse within the flowered Coffin
in peaceful repose was lain.

His Friends all followed close behind
all dressed in somber black
a Funeral Dirge in mournful tones
played softly in the back.

The Sad Procession made it's way
to the Cemetary on the Hill
where an open Grave did Yawn
like a Hungry Mouth waiting to be filled.

The Casket was lowered down
with the Deceased closed up inside
the dirt was piled on top
as His Friends all Mourned and Cried.

But unknown to His Friends
the Body inside still breathed
He was merely in a trance,
tho this was unknown to the Bereaved.

He had heard the Casket Lid
Creaking as it was closed,
and felt every little Jar
as the Hearse recieved it's Load.

He had faintly heard the Dirge playing
as the Cortege made it's way
down that Cobbled Road
while Helpless He did lay,

Within that all encompassing blackness
knowing where He was bound,
knowing that He would be buried
all in that cold cold ground.