The wind whispers
A silent song.
The grass sways
To the rhythm.
The trees wrestle
With the leaves.
The wolves howl
To their moon.
With all this,
Is the simple breeze.
Reminding me:
I can be happy.

But as I turn around
Towards the tiny house
I see my mother sulk and cry.
As I wonder why
It hits my mind:
She is sad,
For I took my life.

I call to her,
Though I know she wont respond.
She cannot hear me.
I’m just a ghost,
Listening to a silent song.