Death is cliche
Even that is cliche
It's all been said
Whispered in hushed tones
Grief and sorror mingle indiscriminately
With happy memories
It comes to us all
Life's great cliche
We all die in the end
It's hard to separate Death from Morbid
Death, while sad
Carries with it some happiness
Remember man that you are dust
And unto dust you shall return
To be blown about as joyous thoughts
And smiling memories
Through endless years and on countless tongues
Person to thought
Unending
Requiescat in pace
Uncle Norb
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