It is the funeral today
But I won’t be there
Though we did share a joke
Playing bingo that Sunday lunchtime
In the Conservative Club
You teased me
About the thousand pound prize
Which I fell for
Hook line and sinker
As also for your daughter
Yet the words ended
As the separation began
I became persona non grata
Which was understandable
Given my lack of conviction
It will be a small affair
All others, or most
Having already passed
Their bowls and blazers
To the cloakroom attendant
Your family will be there
At least your child and her children
Who carried your burden
Only to end up
Spilling over with tears
