The dearly departed are too late to
forgive,
But perhaps the living have done wrong
in their mourning.
Mother's comfort in youth seems a
warning:
If the dead look down on us from above,
They'd see a whole life's worth of
lives, full of
Broken hearts hemorrhaging archived
love.
If my friends kept their eyes
After they lost their lives,
Then I should apologize.
No comments:
Post a Comment