I will not be attending your funeral,
as it has become painfully clear to
me by your quick, untimely passing,
that you will not be attending mine.
I will miss you, you son-of-a-bitch,
you arrogant, hyper-competitive ass,
always insisting on coming in first,
and right up to the end of the line.
By your winning the race for death,
first place for longer life goes to me.
I do not need a gold medal or trophy.
An urn with your ashes will do fine.