Beneath the ground you are alone completely by yourself.
In an urn you simply chill on your wife’s closet shelf.

Before they put you in the soil you pray for absolution.
After you’re a London Broil you could be air pollution.

The remnant of your buried form is ghostly and ethereal.
The remnants of your cremated one can be spread on breakfast cereal.

Underneath in sealed concrete you simply fade and rot.
Cooked above you still give joy if mixed with your friend’s pot.

Below the soil it often is a cold and chilly place.
Above it you’ll be burnt warm toast in a pretty decorated vase!

Underneath you’ll always stay unless you are exhumed.
Atop you just might still “break” out! But then you‘ll get vacuumed.

As your lover sees you lowered there may be sobs and cries.
Spreading ashes is teary too if you blow back in her eyes.

After burial your spirit ascends and defies the cruel Grim Reaper!
After spreading your ashes fall into the pan of a big street sweeper.