I wished you had been a brat
or that you had some pretty messed up morals,
because praising you would just make it
like your death made you an angel.

But darling, you always were,
and the way you swore was always so gentle;
it lacked punch.
We always laughed you off.

You left us hanging
I could be cliche, I guess,
say you lived on in our hearts
but you didn’t because if you did,
we’d still be the same

and we’re not.
We’re all just
limping around, bodies distorted
like Picasso redrew all of us
placed us back on old canvases
disfigured.

It was sad, because
it was ironic, and I never wanted people
to laugh at your
Death.
No one should be able to laugh you off
because you were trying to live,
visit “1001 Places To See Before You Die”.
I don’t know how far you got, but you got to Flagstaff.

If you’d seen the article,
you might have laughed too.
Except I’d never heard you laugh.
I’d always imagined it would be soft and tinkling.

If anything, at least I now know you were never a 47 year old paedophile.