The Funeral of Mark Cecil

[Mark Cecil]

The funeral of Mark Cecil (2nd edit)

He thumped along the ward like a hippo
grunting a syllable each thud he made:
“Max - i - mill - i - en Robes - pi - erre” he said
believing to be as great as he was 

Obsessed with the great French Revolution
he believed earnestly that he would be 
compared to great men of that nation, like
Robespierre, Danton, Marat, Voltaire

He believed the French would call him there own
and would say in time “je suis Mark Cecil”
But he would not risk life for liberty
and was not about to be viciously martyred

But the Hospital would become his grave
for his mental state worsened there greatly
constantly repeating words and phrases
holding thoughts of excessive grandeur

To him his death would be of world renown 
all people's of earth would mourn his passing
many would rush to come and pay respect
especially the great people of France 

But his death and funeral never took place
and no masked and armed men came to kill him,
no tears streamed down cheeks at a sudden death,
no funeral with a coffin was laid down.

Yet his mind died February second
two thousand and fifteen in Craigavon.
Like a ship without a rudder to stir
was his body’s workings without its mind

That day saw his mind become guillotined
and his thoughts become sliced of all meaning
his head fell from the stock into madness
isolation would become his coffin.

The intensive care unit would become
his great sarcophagus of psychosis
which he would endlessly pace around
the very place of his mind’s funeral  

But his absent family shed no tears
only strange undertakers were present
who rather than bury the man's mad brain 
now hoped to resurrect it from folly.


The funeral of Mark Cecil (1st edit)

He thumped along the ground like a hippo
Grunting a syllable each thud he made:
“Max - i - mill - i - en Robes - pi - erre” he said
Having the same thoughts of grandeur as he did

For he saw himself as a Frenchman
and thought earnestly that he would be compared
to many great men of that nation, men like:
Robespierre, Danton, Marat and Voltaire

To him his death would be of world renown 
all people's of the earth would mourn his death
many would rush to come and pay their respects
especially the people of France

He died the second of February 
two thousand and fifteen in Craigavon.
He believed the French would call him there own
and would say in time “je suis Mark Cecil”

But his death and funeral never took place
no masked and armed men came to kill him,
no mourning tears were shed at his passing,
no funeral with a coffin was laid to rest.

For on that day his mind was guillotined
his thoughts were shredded of all meaning
his head fell from the stock into madness
the isolation unit became his coffin.

His family shed no tears for they were absent
only strange undertakers were present
who rather than bury the deceased
resurrected him from his great folly.


The funeral of Mark Cecil

To him his death would be of world renown
all people's of the earth would mourn his passing
many would rush to come and pay their respects
especially the people of France

For he saw himself as a Frenchman
and thought earnestly that he would be compared
to many great men of that nation, men like:
Descartes, Pascal, Sartre and Voltaire

Many in Paris who said “je suis Charlie”
would say in time “je suis Mark Cecil”
deceased the second February
two thousand and fifteen in Craigavon

But his death and funeral never took place
no masked and armed men came to kill him,
no mourning tears were shed at his passing,
no funeral with a coffin was laid to rest.

For on that fateful day his mind perished
Making him follow the ways of the beasts
descending him into the grave of madness
With the isolation unit his coffin.

His family shed no tears for they were absent
Only strange undertakers were present
Who rather than bury the deceased
Resurrected him from his great folly.