When They Said, "he's Gone..."
Six is to early a number
Yet even seven is not appropriate
A memory of
Tiny toes
Creeps
Through my sorrowed mind
Your laughter
Once enlightening me
Now depresses me
Your picture frames
Turned down
A face hidden
Forever
Life is too short
But what is there that’s longer?
The heart that you relied
So gravely on
Stopped
As did time
When they said, “He’s gone…”
A cue for a lifetime of lingering
And linger I shall
On and
On and
On and
On
Time is not there to tell the point of day
But to count the time spent before death
And time will never stop
Or it would have known
That six is too early a number
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