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.
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