I feel in my insides lurch,
I am surrounded by the smell of this old church,
the stained wood floors creak with every creep,
this seems such an odd place to weep.

A session began,
that can destroy any man,
the loss of a son, the loss of a brother,
it is a pain like no other.

My friend, my family, my sibling,
there is a lump in my throat, and I cannot sing,
surrounded by photos and one cheap flower basket,
there you lie in a dully painted casket.

Our mother bursts out and cries,
there are questions of "who's" and "why's,"
the pastor stands awkwardly and does not know,
as do I, now where do we go?

With mouth stitched closed, and eyes held tight,
now you may sleep all through the night,
you will never again have to feel hurt,
I just wish you did not have to achieve it by going into the dirt.