Its your funeral

In a funeral

Black would be thhe colour of the world

The coffin would be black

And would be buried insoil that is the same colour

Black tulips would be planted

And gark greenish grass would surround the tombstone

The sun would be grey

And the clouds stormy

And the sorrow would make eveyone lethargic

The stiffles sobs in the sea of dark hats and umbreallas

Would form a hard lumo in your throat

And make you want to cry too.

But how can you?

Your in the coffin after all.