| I went to Ms Brutch's son's funeral today, I've been crying since then... But she was so happy to see us there, it was something that I will never regret doing, out of all the teachers and family members, we were the only students there, and when Dr. Smith looked at us and smiled, I knew that it was right. For the first time in my life, I have felt the overwhelming urge To pray. To fight against the doctrines of a Faithless Existance And to pour my heart out Unto a faceless And unnamed being To see the strong, Pulled into weakness And to feel the loss, Be it not mine. I pray In the selfish rights of the damned And sacrilegious, May I never feel the pain that of which is written So purely Before us. As we watch, Helpless from the wayside, In want to steal such pain away From a woman Who has been thus to us As a mother, And a sister Forever a friend And within me, The tears find new ground to fall upon, Grieving for the broken woman who Stands before me For her loss Is of unimaginable proportions And my wish: To steal away her pain, Forever rots as a prayer made in vain. For no God, Who can feel not but love, Knows such pain, And no pain is greater, Than that Of a loss Of a child. ~~~~ The church, is blindingly beautiful, Yet I know not the denomination, But not it matters, For God is the same in every religion And knows many names. The priest reads from notes, His down cast head The illusion of grief, Yet I know not this man, So I know not if he truly grieves. But he looks not at his audience, He looks away, As if he fears their pain. Memories are told, Shared in confidence I feel I know this man, As if he is standing next to me, Near me, Just over my shoulder, Though truly he is gone. I know not this man, Yet I wish I had. Teachers, Teachers, Teachers, it’s only right Both parents were teachers, Yet they speak not, Through their pain. A voice, The mother, “Never doubt your parents love.” Spoken through tears, “They love you They do, So much.” Only tears Jokes, Jokes, Jokes, people joke But the smiles are as real As the tears, And I know we all feel it, As if he is with us now, Laughing with us, Crying with us, I wish I had known this man. Too soon, Too soon, They utter, Too soon. A brother, He talks purely, with innocence And truth, Heaven, heaven He says, Heaven, And I believe him. A Sister, With small hands, And a choked voice, Heaven She sputters, And I believe her. More tears, A friend, Last irony, a sunrise, Eloquent The friend is, He cries, I cry. Another friend, I’m still crying And the tears won’t stop. I aspire to be this man, Whom I have never known, Yet I wish I had, As I know his mother. To the mother, I pray for her, Yes I, the godless heathen, I pray for her, To whomever may be listening, So maybe, for once in my life, I could get just one thing right. Still I cry, For I find myself helpless. Small Hands, Large world, And I write, So others may feel this mother’s grief, As I feel it now. And as the Priest says why, He asks why, I ask myself, Is not the point of living to find such answers? And so I pray, That now the man who has always yearned for answers, I pray that now, He has found them. |
