As you lower me into the ground six feet deep
This is the conclusion of never ending argument.
There aren’t mourners here.
There wasn’t a soul by the deathbed.
No messages on the wall,
No cards,
Hearts don’t break for this poor soul
That smile
Your skin
And your soul
Will wither like mine.
You won’t have anyone then.
You never have.
I’ve got no one.
No need to be broken about it.
It’s just the nature of things.
Sandy Author 