I was there wearing my collar

And your parents in the front row

As your friends shared their stories

The whole room turned to an Altar

I offered words and fumbled through them

Always fall short of a human soul

Bagpipes played and we all prayed

The whiplash of a life too soon gone

Eulogies and Homilies

They say it’s just part of the job

But it’s muscle memory I haven’t learned

And it doesn’t hurt any less for me