Flowers Wilted
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"Let us not cry for those who are dead"
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"Let us not cry for those who are dead," and gone,
I know these words are so right and true;
Yet my broken heart will not let me stop weeping,
I shed tears each time I recall my beloved family.
Only through a rusty, ornate gate do I find them.
Oh, the emptiness of my life that once was full,
There is a pain I carry within that is unfathomable and deep;
I stand with fist clenched and beseech the Lord,
Why, echoes in my soul, why did you need each one.
Only words engraved in cold stone are they.
I am left with broken memories of happiness and bliss,
Did you need my baby too, Lord, you already had my true love;
Mother and father, sister and grandparents all,
Far away is the cemetery where they rest, often I go by bus.
My flowers wilted, I stand at their tomb and weep.
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August 16, 2013
Poetry/Verse/Flowers Wilted
Copyright Protected, ID 08-499-425-16
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La France
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2013
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