At the graveyard (in answer to T.T. Cloete)

It's exhausting, painful with tears
there at the grave,
old ladies blow their noses and cry, old men
pass away all of the time
with surreptitiously a big argument about who
will inherit everything,
when cousins glance at each other
sometimes kiss, embrace and reach out hands.

[Reference: "Ballade van die kerkhof" (Ballade of the graveyard) by T.T. Cloete.]