The Funeral Diaries


The death of a friend can affect many. Especially when one was so young and had not truly lived. Those who knew her miss her deeply. I miss her.

Tiffany Lovell, Staff Writer

Long Lost Friend

Nothing but the images of flowers

Dancing the tango in the wind and

She visits here everyday.

The newly grown grass produces a strong aroma

Covering the Georgian clay that once stood and

He visits here everyday.

A great marble stone glimmers in the sun

Providing the comfort of a date and last name and

I visit here everyday.


Spoken Words

One could say that the dark is lifted

When death disappears

But the truth is that darkness is encompassing

Death is an activity from which you can never run


One could say that we shouldn’t cry

When death steals

But is it allowed when the one in the casket was pure?

Was her innocence worth it?


One could say that I’m overreacting

When a dear friend is taken from me

But it’s not fair when purity is murdered

Was the world too strong,

Or was I too weak?


Death Himself



He wears a cloak as black as night



He brings about sadness to the ended



He hates his duty, the people he has to take away

He loves them.


Empty Slate

This large rock cut so smoothly

With a date carved in roughly

But no name is found

So here is where the dirt unsettles

Leaving viewers in demise and babble

Who lies within, who was buried

How disrespectful to the one six feet under

After all, he just wants to be remembered


Stolen Innocence

Her fragile body succumbed by darkness

Taken away from friends and family

They now stand near for final goodbyes

Clad in coal as they may

Only surrounding flowers brighten

Goodbye, my sweet friend