Funeral of a Fiend
The man with the collar
gathers mourners
with lightning green eyes.
In a thunderous voice,
he soaks them with platitudes
and idealistic images of the dead.
He holds up the deceased
as a poster child
for all that is noble.
Disdain lies dormant,
an underground hot spring.
Grieving conceals grins.
The family scatters,
secretly rejoicing,
their tears, a spring rain.
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