Shame

"How sharper than a serpent's tooth is an ungrateful child"  - William Shakespeare

Is there shame in death?
Is there a need to cover my nakedness while you lower me into the earth ?
You who refused to clothe me while I lived
Torturous tales about me you weaved
You opened my shame to the world while I breathed
Now you cry and clothe me in white
Me! Me who wasn't pure enough to serve your God
Me that will burn and rot in hell,  a fire so hot
Why cover me in white that will be covered in soot ?
You my son who wore the best suits while your mother wore rags
You who drank wine while the breast you sucked sagged
Me the idol worshipper unworthy of your consideration
Now I am dead, you cover me up,  cover a shame that isn't there
My son, there is no shame  in death.
For he who claims to have forgotten his roots cannot ignore the tugging of the soil.
What is a colourful flower without roots ?
My son there is no shame in death, leave me be.
Stop your hysterics
You never cared
Cover me up, me the heathen
Seek for your hypocritical forgiveness from your condemning God
That God who taught you not to respect your mother, to spit in the face of the woman who suckled you.
I shall laugh when your own fruit begin to mock you
Laugh I shall
Long and hard, in the blazing fires you gave me.