Many people are devoid of feelings,
Or that's how it seems to me,
I think they exhaust all their emotions,
Through watching drama on TV.

They see a million romances,
Thousands of dramatic scenes,
The constant run of mighty soaps,
Plus so many might-have-beens.

So many transatlantic killings,
This masochistic trend,
Yet the real increase in national crime,
Does not seem to offend.
All those eternal triangles,
Of true feelings they're bereft,
For when it comes to reality,
They just have nothing left.

No Flowers

Death is final, we moan and cry,
Long-lost friends and relatives never die,

Those people you've lost contact with, played their part on your life's stage.
Will always be as you remember them and will never age.
They may be from your school days or in some long-lost career,
People that you have worked with, some you held most dear.

I once knew of an orphan who found it hard to cry,
He said "I did not know my mum and dad, so they will never die."

Yet time and you have moved along on to pastures new,
Perhaps as you remember them, they too remember you.

There will be no funerals that you will attend, for their lives, unlike your own, to you will never ever end.
Ta Napper
Peterborough