He stands there, ever so sad.
She was torn from her great lad.
He recalls all the things she ever taught him.
When she helped him in situations that were grim.
She was his shoulder to cry on, always there.
She comforted him in his times of despair.
He used to talk to her so much, oh how he raved.
He now just talks to an unresponsive grave.
His head down, between silences.

Is this truly the end? It can’t be.
He wishes for the way things used to be.
She was his guardian, his protector of one.
He did the same, just like any good son.
This person wasn’t just anyone. It was his mom.
She is now gone, and hopefully moved on.
He now has a one-sided conversation.
His head down, between silences