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Funeral poemsYou woke up this morning 100 years old

You woke up this morning 100 years old

Reading time: 30 seconds

A long life Modern Plain English Uplifting

Lucas Jones · 2024

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You woke up this morning 100 years old

Lucas Jones · 2024

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

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A long life Modern Plain English Uplifting

Meaning

You wake up and the house is warmer, your skin is soft, you are on your feet without thinking about it. Everything is back: your body, your heart, and the list of dreams you never started. You look in the mirror and cry, because there is so much to do and now there is time for it.

Who's it for

A very long life, handed back in full for one morning. Right for a family who want the length of it celebrated rather than mourned.

Lucas Jones

British · Around 30 years old

@lucassjoness

@lucasthejones

linktr.ee/lucassjoness

Lucas Jones is an actor and a poet. He grew up in Huntingdon in a pentecostal family, moved house seven times before he was fourteen, and lives in London now. He started putting poems on the internet in 2023 and more than a million people follow him.

More about Lucas Jones →

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A man dies twice

This poem is for a man who kept a sense of purpose right to the end. Right for a family who want to say what he was for rather than what he was like.

ModernPlain English

2025

50 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

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A Psalm of Life

This poem is for someone who never sat still and left things behind them: a business, a trade, a houseful of people they taught. Right for a life spent being useful.

A classicPlain English

1838

2 min

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul. Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us farther than to-day. Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave. In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle! Be a hero in the strife! Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act,--act in the living Present! Heart within, and God o'erhead! Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;-- Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again. Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

Read the whole poem →

Afterlife

This poem is for a child's funeral, or a family who want somewhere hopeful to put the question without naming a religion. It is playful on purpose.

For a childModern

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

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Are you winning

This poem is for a nurse, a carer, or anybody who worked in the room where people die. Right for a service full of colleagues who did the same job.

ModernPlain English

2026

1 min

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

Barter

This poem is for a person who got a lot out of being alive: weather, music, food, their children's faces. Right where a family want the funeral to be about the living they did.

Non-religiousNot about death

1917

50 sec

Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And children's faces looking up Holding wonder like a cup. Life has loveliness to sell, Music like a curve of gold, Scent of pine trees in the rain, Eyes that love you, arms that hold, And for your spirit's still delight, Holy thoughts that star the night. Spend all you have for loveliness, Buy it and never count the cost; For one white singing hour of peace Count many a year of strife well lost, And for a breath of ecstasy Give all you have been, or could be.

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Death, be not proud

This poem is for a believer, and a family who want something with some fight in it rather than a quiet goodbye. It suits a person who argued back all their life.

A classicReligious

1633

55 sec

Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so: For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me. From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow; And soonest our best men with thee do go-- Rest of their bones and souls' delivery! Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell; And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more: Death, thou shalt die!

Read the whole poem →

Death's probably a gift

This poem is for a family who want comfort without religion. Right after a long life, or a long illness that was fought hard.

ModernNon-religious

2026

2 min

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

Doing the right thing

This poem is for someone whose kindness nobody ever thanked them for. Right for a family who want that said plainly at last.

ModernPlain English

2024

40 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

Hope is the thing with feathers

This poem is for someone who stayed hopeful without ever making a show of it, and kept other people going by it.

A classicComforting

1891

30 sec

I don't care if God's real as long as God's true

This poem is for a family who are divided about religion, for somebody whose goodness was the whole of their faith. Right where half the room would walk out of a sermon and the other half needs one.

ComfortingModern

2026

2 min

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

I'd do it all again

This poem is for a friend, read by the friend who nearly did not make it either. Right for a service where the people in the room got each other through something.

For a friendModern

2026

55 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

It is not growing like a tree

This poem is for anyone who died young, and a family who need to hear that a short life was still a whole one. Right for a person who packed a lot in.

ComfortingGone too soon

1640

35 sec

More poems for a long life

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Crossing the Bar

This poem is for someone who had a long life and was ready. Especially right for anyone who went to sea, or just loved being near it.

A classicA long life

1889

45 sec

Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell, When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crost the bar.

Read the whole poem →

Fear No More the Heat o' the Sun

This poem is for a person who worked hard all their life and had had enough by the end. It also fits someone who never cared much who was important and who wasn't.

A classicA long life

1623

50 sec

Fear no more the heat o' the sun, Nor the furious winter's rages: Thou thy worldly task hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages: Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. Fear no more the frown o' the great, Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak: The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust. Fear no more the lightning flash Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone; Fear not slander, censure rash; Thou hast finish'd joy and moan: All lovers young, all lovers must Consign to thee, and come to dust.

Read the whole poem →

I strove with none

This poem is for someone who reached a good age and stayed out of other people's arguments. Right for a person who loved being outdoors or worked with their hands, and was content by the end.

A long lifeNon-religious

1849

15 sec

I'll See You Tomorrow

This poem is for a husband or wife of very many years. It is for the one left doing the nightly routine alone, which is where this kind of grief actually bites.

A long lifeFor a partner

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

What if you fell in love in the comment section

This poem is for a couple who met online and stayed together to the end. Right for a family who get asked how the two of them met and love telling it.

A long lifeFor a partner

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We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

When I go from hence

This poem is for someone grateful and curious, who found something holy without needing a church for it. Right for a person who reckoned they had had the better of the bargain.

A long lifeComforting

1912

45 sec

When I go from hence let this be my parting word, that what I have seen is unsurpassable. I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus that expands on the ocean of light, and thus am I blessed—let this be my parting word. In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that is formless. My whole body and my limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch; and if the end comes here, let it come—let this be my parting word.

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This poem is for a husband or wife who was told how long they had. Right for a family who watched somebody spend their last weeks reassuring everybody else.

For a partnerGone too soon

2024

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We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

A man dies twice

This poem is for a man who kept a sense of purpose right to the end. Right for a family who want to say what he was for rather than what he was like.

ModernPlain English

2025

50 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

A simple poem for someone who's dead

This poem is for a child reading at a funeral, or anybody who can only manage four lines. Right where somebody wants to speak and knows they will not get through much.

For a childGentle

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10 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

Adulthood

This poem is for a family who feel something at a funeral and have no words for it. Right for a room that is not religious and is not comfortable saying so either.

ComfortingModern

2024

50 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

After he died, they pulled up his stats

This poem is for a man who was ordinary, flawed and much loved. Right for a service that wants to laugh and does not want him made into a saint.

FunnyModern

2025

40 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

Afterlife

This poem is for a child's funeral, or a family who want somewhere hopeful to put the question without naming a religion. It is playful on purpose.

For a childModern

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Afterparty

This poem is for a family being swallowed by the ugly end of grief. It tells them what the anger is made of without asking them to feel better yet.

ComfortingModern

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

Again

This poem is for anyone in the first terrible weeks who has caught themselves wishing they had never met. It is the answer to that thought.

ComfortingModern

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

More about this poem →

All At Once

This poem is for a family who feel they are grieving wrongly, especially anyone who caught themselves laughing. It tells them nothing has gone wrong.

ComfortingModern

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

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And the angels said

This poem is for someone whose whole identity was being loved by one person. Right for the shortest possible reading at a partner's funeral.

For a partnerGentle

2024

10 sec

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

Are you winning

This poem is for a nurse, a carer, or anybody who worked in the room where people die. Right for a service full of colleagues who did the same job.

ModernPlain English

2026

1 min

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

Boys and their dads

This poem is for a father and son who got it almost right. Right for a service where a man is going to have to stand up and talk about his dad.

For a fatherModern

2026

2 min

We are not licensed to show this poem here. You can still read it aloud at a funeral.

Hear Lucas Jones read it on TikTok.

More about this poem →

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