Poem: Eulogy By Orville Lloyd Douglas.

The day you died was the happiest moment of my life.

Although I wasn’t cognizant of this moment  last September, I am happy that you no longer exist.

You are not a real human being.

Instead of having an aorta, lungs, or blood pumping through your veins you do not have the will to survive.

At the age of twenty seven your time was running out.

How much longer can this illusion continue?

This reticence of shattering the canyon of silence?

Etched in the vault of discontent, was this acknowledgement your demise is actually a peace-offering.

It was a prescient moment, not an epiphany to regret about.

Your elixir was also your poison that ended your pathetic existence.

The marijuana consumed your essence until you lost all sense of reason.

I guess smoking up  in your vehicle by the Tim Horton’s restaurant at 2:00 am in the morning is your recipe for understanding.

I know, I am supposed to having feelings of pathos but I can’t help it.

I want to jump up and shout and tell the world that I am free.

I no longer have to think about the long nights of doubt, of tossing and turning wondering about you.

I can get a good’s night sleep and not worry about the frantic 4:00 am phone calls as you cried about family honour or arranged marriages.

I no longer have to be a  prisoner in a cloud of shame.

Is the closet really Pandora’s Box?

Would it be so hard to unlock the truth to your parents?

You sealed your fate when you decided that “honour” was more important than living life .

The suffocation was killing me  but  I am finally emancipated.

It took time for this period of convalescence to occur.

There are no more days of unhappiness that formed a cauldron of pain circling through my mind.

Now I can complete several somersaults and cartwheels celebrating your death.