Field of Granite Stone

Carrying a bundle of flowers I walk through the field of granite stone, I'm surrounded by people but all alone. I kneel on the grass, water soaking my knees, I listen as the breeze weaves through the trees. I stroke the cold wet stone with my glove, Yank my hair as I stare at the heavens above. My eyes began to burn from all the pain, Interrupting my grieving, there came the rain. I traced the engraved words with my fingertip, Salty tears fell upon my lip. Leaving the flowers in front your grave as I begin to stand, I shall miss you my dear friend. Walking through a field of granite stone, Surrounded by people but all alone.