When I die,

Plant a rose on my grave;

for every love I never made.

every kiss I’ve never laid

ever beauty I’ve ever gazed

and never compliment paid.

When I die,

Have a brass band at my funeral service;

combine my wake with Sunday worship

for forgiveness for all my Sundays missed

for all my time selfishly spent

fulfilling my wants and fleshly sins.

When I die,

Clear the floor for the break dance squad;

to interpretively dance me up to God I pray they make the routine hard

so others realize you must be strong

to truly represent the art.

When I die,

Give anyone who claims my brotherhood the mic;

so that for one last time they may recite

in my presence the things they write

and express daily stress throughout their plight

and let it not end until early light.

When I die,

Let the art truly flow;

much like fears at a normal funeral

let my life shine through the actions you control

and do it for love, not for show…

then truly I will live forever more.