Too many front row seats at funerals
Too many tears shed over bodies
Too many cold hands help in hopes to feel warmth
Too many goodbyes that can't be helped.
It's a sad day when there are too many
When siblings realize
And kin begin to visualize
A day without their mother
A day without their brother
Too many, I say
Too many.
Too many sorrow and not enough joys
It seems, these days are numbered
Numbered and riddled with sadness
With the occasional laugh and smile
It seems, at least these days...
There are too many.
Dec 4, 2013
Dec 4, 2013 at 11:44 PM UTC
Too many front row seats at funerals
Too many tears shed over bodies
Too many cold hands help in hopes to feel warmth
Too many goodbyes that can't be helped.
It's a sad day when there are too many
When siblings realize
And kin begin to visualize
A day without their mother
A day without their brother
Too many, I say
Too many.
Too many sorrow and not enough joys
It seems, these days are numbered
Numbered and riddled with sadness
With the occasional laugh and smile
It seems, at least these days...
There are too many.
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