(I met a group of friends begging on the streets to support the family of their deceased friend in defraying the costs of burial, showing his picture to passersby. And I was inspired to write this poem)

So it has come to this
Begging money on the streets
To bury an old friend
His family sits
Under empty canopies
Waiting for guests
Who might never come
And for mounting costs
That might never be defrayed

Did the dead man ever dream that he would ever end like this?

Is this what years of investment in a relative should yield?

I stare for a long time, and walk away

To life that must continue