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Funeral poemsYour boy's last compliment

Your boy's last compliment

Reading time: 35 seconds

Gone too soon Modern Plain English Unusual

Lucas Jones · 2025

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Your boy's last compliment

Lucas Jones · 2025

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

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Gone too soon Modern Plain English Unusual

Meaning

A boy is sitting in McDonald's in 2012 when a girl from the year above goes round the table sniffing and tells him his shirt smells really nice. Nobody had said anything that kind to him before, and he stayed in the booth until the ice in his Coke had gone. It says it probably saved his life.

Who's it for

A young man who died, read as proof that one kind sentence counted. Right for a family who want the smallest thing about him said out loud.

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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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

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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.

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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.

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

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Because I could not stop for Death

This poem is for someone unhurried, who took things as they came and was never frightened of what was ahead.

A classicGentle

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Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labor, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 't is centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity.

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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.

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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.

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chasing ceremony/convincing myself

This poem is for somebody who loved them and cannot be in the room. Right where a brother is abroad, a sister is too ill to travel, or the person who knew them longest is the one who has to watch on a screen.

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

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Congratulations to you

This poem is for a decent, lazy, forgiven, non-religious person. Right for a service that wants to be fond of somebody rather than solemn about them.

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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.

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This poem is for someone who was never tidy and was all heart. Right for a family who would rather laugh about the shelf than pretend it got done.

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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 →

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.

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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!

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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.

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This poem is for a best friend, especially one who died young. Right for a family who would rather the grief were said out loud than smoothed over.

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Oh, Friend! for ever lov'd, for ever dear! What fruitless tears have bathed thy honour'd bier! What sighs re-echo'd to thy parting breath, Whilst thou wast struggling in the pangs of death! Could tears retard the tyrant in his course; Could sighs avert his dart's relentless force; Could youth and virtue claim a short delay, Or beauty charm the spectre from his prey; Thou still hadst liv'd to bless my aching sight, Thy comrade's honour and thy friend's delight. If yet thy gentle spirit hover nigh The spot where now thy mouldering ashes lie, Here wilt thou read, recorded on my heart, A grief too deep to trust the sculptor's art. No marble marks thy couch of lowly sleep, But living statues there are seen to weep; Affliction's semblance bends not o'er thy tomb, Affliction's self deplores thy youthful doom. What though thy sire lament his failing line, A father's sorrows cannot equal mine! Though none, like thee, his dying hour will cheer, Yet other offspring soothe his anguish here: But, who with me shall hold thy former place? Thine image, what new friendship can efface? Ah, none!--a father's tears will cease to flow, Time will assuage an infant brother's woe; To all, save one, is consolation known, While solitary Friendship sighs alone.

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This poem is for a baby, or a child who died very small. It is right where a family believe their child is somewhere safe and being looked after now.

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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.

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This poem is for a young man who took his own life, read to the friends who still have his number in their phone. Right for a family who want him talked about kindly and not explained.

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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.

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This poem is for a son who died young, in a family who want his own dates said out loud. Right where the funeral falls near a birthday.

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

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This poem is for a girl or young woman whose whole character was how much she loved people. Right for a family who want her remembered for that rather than for what was wrong with her.

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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 →

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 →

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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

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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.

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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 →

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.

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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

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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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