"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.
August 16, 2013
Written by Broken Wings (Constance La France)
"Let us not cry for those who are dead"
From the poem, The Funeral
By Richard Lamoureaux
Submitted to the contest, Pick A Line, Any Line, Richard Lamoureaux