Coffee and Roses

Send coffee with the flowers.
To my funeral, you know.
I don’t want to sleep through it.

You see,
I’ve been doing all-nighters preparing,
and I’m really tired.
I tried to figure out when I started,
preparing for my funeral.
I even asked my therapist.

You see,
apparently, quite a few people
can’t remember childhood.
Well, I can’t remember what came after childhood.
I’ve been trying to calculate just when I lost it,
childhood I mean.
And, I am so absent minded,
I know I must have just simply misplace it,

At any rate,
I have tried to piece the rest of my life
back together,
with the aid of my therapist,
who seems to think that on my present course,
I’m doomed.

Thus the funeral,
you see.
My therapist believes
(I have deduced this,
therapists never admit to
believing anything)
if I retrace my steps I will discover
where I took the wrong street
and ended up here.

I disagreed
I think I misplaced my childhood
and ran in to this terrible bit of fog
and just got lost without my compass.
I’m not sure,
that without my compass
I could ever find my way again.

At any rate
it is quite frustrating,
kind of like arguing with my therapist,
if you try to pin a therapist down about where your going,
in the therapy I mean,
they immediately ask you
“what do you think?”

obviously I’m lost,
that’s what I think
that’s why I’m in therapy,

There’s no truth in advertising you know.
I went to therapy to find out where I was going
and all my therapist wanted to talk about was
where I had been
Well, hell.
If I knew I wouldn’t be here, would I?
I’d pretty well know where I was headed then

after this little discussion,
my therapist wanted to know if I’d ever been abused
I in turn asked if she abused her children
like she abused me.
Well, you just know,
after that, we parted ways.

At any rate,
I just don’t seem to be getting anywhere,
you see,
except one day closer to my funeral.
I summarized to myself all I thought I had
learned along the way,
about funerals I mean.
I’ve decided that to wait until you die
to have your funeral is ridiculous.
It’s like eating that stuff your mom
used to tell you was good for you
and giving up the desert!
Not me!
I’ll have my funeral while I’m still kicking,
thank you.
I may be tired, but the motor’s still running,
let me tell you.

That’s why the coffee,
you see.
To make sure I’m awake.
I don’t want to miss one minute of it.
And when it’s over?
I can’t think of one thing better to do
than to take the rest of my life
and go find out where I misplaced my childhood,
can you?
After all,
it can’t get me any where worse than where
I’ve end up.

By the way,
the flowers?
Make them roses.
I used to love roses when I was just a kid.
See ya there.

Coffee and Roses


Eagle Rock, United States

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Artwork Comments

  • gpatrick
  • collin
  • gpatrick
  • collin
  • CaileanBabcock
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