cottonevie

My brother\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\'s coffin 

Autumn is the season he decided to die

Mother couldn’t chose the coffin for him 

So we waited till winter 

When the time arrived, we chose the coffin he could have wanted

 I carried the marble coffin through the forest and lowered into the ground 

I was regretful of the coffin that was chosen for him  

He din’t like fancy objects 

That coffin was too lavish