Why do most people cry,
when a loved one dies.
Is it because it is someone they will miss,
or that they wish they could give one more kiss.
Or is it to celebrate the happiness of their life,
and how they overcame their strife.
With people one may never know,
no matter how long ago.
Next time you look up at the starry sky,
if you are careful you can hear their sigh.
At how naive, we the young,
and the stories we have sung.
Yet comes the time they have to say farewell,
but they say their time here was swell.
And when it comes to day,
they have seen sorrows all their way.
Yet all they will say,
never let it sway your way.
When you hear the dead’s wisdom,
I will only advise that they are like the system.
And you are the program,
their words are like a poem.
Wise as a dictionary, yet fluid like a river,
You are the receiver and they the giver.
So next time you go to the funeral.
Tell the things that they did and paint their story like a murrell.