Everything fades on this day
next to the grim loss…
Time keeps pushing you away;
minutes multiply and my heart divides.
The soil that has you is sacred
yet I want to curse.
Where are you old man?
I love you.
Would that you had never
taken a ride in that long progression
of cars and mourners…
Would that you had never
led us that last time
leading us in that slow
and terribly ugly black hearse.
I have your pictures
but gone is your laugh.
I have you in my blood,
but gone is your hand.
You are gone
and I walk on
cursing every day
as I sadly walk away.