some great reward
I remember reading the poem at the funeral.
I remember the sound of my voice wavering in my ears.
I remember giving a speech that no longer felt rehearsed.
I remember meaning every word, and willing them to understand.
I remember the looks of grief on their tearstained faces.
And I remember watching them find the Bible readings paltry by comparison.
I remember the sound of my voice wavering in my ears.
I remember giving a speech that no longer felt rehearsed.
I remember meaning every word, and willing them to understand.
I remember the looks of grief on their tearstained faces.
And I remember watching them find the Bible readings paltry by comparison.