Death Of Arnold

Death of Arnold My best friend Arnold died, he was only nine and three quarters. In a white casket laid and his hair was combed for once. His lips painted (he should only have known) Rouge on pale cheeks. Arnold was going up to Jesus, that`s what the grown-up said; he didn`t Look as he was going anywhere I felt embarrassed the way they had dolled him up. Death is strange I knew it was Arnold, but was aware he was an empty shell mother hung the picture on the wall, a reminder, she said. When my brother died she took the picture down.