we make arrangements for the dead.
it's too late
for them
to decide things.
where to be buried, or burned,
what box
they'll lie in.
it's too late to pick the guests.
to ask for flowers
of a certain color.
too late to demand what will
be read,
what music to be played.
it's too late for everything.
and so it goes once more,
as others decide your fate.
you really should have
planned ahead.
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