A friend of mine died today, passed
to a better place some people say.
I guess if six feet of mud is a better place
those folks are right on.
I wouldn’t know because I’ve never been dead
no one has that lived and told about it.
If there is a garden party after death where butterflies
flutter with golden hummingbirds
press against flowers from on high, I don’t want to go.
Too many Christians claim
it’s their home away from home.
I know too many hypocrites who will turn to bone
just like me when the end visits.
Don’t send me to some mythical heaven.
I just want to be a tree.