I’m not a mourner, not even a friend

Just a friend of a friend, been asked to attend

 

I never knew my friend’s late friend

So it seems kind of strange that I should be here at his end

 

I feel out of place, not being a friend

And the tears of his loved ones mean nothing to me

 

I should be moved by all this emotion

But I’m starting to think: should I have put my other coat on?

 

But the buffet is good and the sandwiches fresh

(I particularly like the egg and cress)

 

But I avoid the gaze of the tearful daughter

And I feel like a thief when I eat the last pork pie

 

‘Condolences’ I say to the widow, ‘so sorry for your loss’

And she looks into my face, perhaps trying to place me

 

But I’m not a mourner, not even a friend

Just a friend of a friend, been asked to attend