The Dead Observing

The mortician, he prepared me so lovely
Allowing a small smile to tug my lips
I watch over him as he lay the rosary
Over my hands and between my fingertips

Friends and family attend for the wake
Some sob aloud and some keep it inside
Wondering why it was me that God had to take
Say good-bye to me, on Death's road I ride

Sprinkle me with Holy Water
Cleanse me of my sins and pains
Send me solemnly to God Our Father
And six feet under, bury my remains

Author's note:

My religious views have changed since I wrote this, but I've kept the poem in its original form.