When flowers die,
People start to cry,
Because they don’t want beauty,
To fade in the twinkle of their eyes.
And just like beautiful princesses,
just like rambunctious clowns,
ust like exquisites sprites,
just like magnanimous samaritans,
just like benevolent saints,
ust like decorated warriors,
just like prodigious musicians,
just like the fair,maidenlike trees,
just like the tranquil seas,
just like the pacific heavens,
Or even the peaceful grunts of moving earth,
People start to cry when a beauty forsakes in a blink of an eye.
And thus if I am six feet under,
Would you cry for me?
Would a tear usher from your eye to fall on my beatless heart?
If you do cry, I’ll make sure to take your tear at your bedside.