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Death
May 22, 2011
You lay there still, and unmoving.
I hold your cold hands in my own,
Tears stain the white sheets,
The world spins, I can’t hold my ground.
My body turns away, my whole being collapses.
Unpleasant whispers of condolence, and heartless looks of sympathy kills me.
I see you buried away, but the pain lingers and so does the hollowness.
The pain is numb and so is my heart.
I look up at the sky,
“What purpose does death serve?”
© Anonymous
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