Quarantine aisles briskly I tread
Oh, the unending agony of those we call "dead"
And yet persists the practice of our people
To give them roses, hugs for the feeble

Morning comes and sunlight creeps
Among tombstones and relatives' weeps
Lighting every corner with it's ray
Filling their hearts with dismay

It signals life, that morning sun
for it shall never be seen by you whose life is done
Bittersweet some might say
But to me it's all just gray

Gray as your hair when you left
You looked so young,you handled aging with deft
We thought nothing was wrong, you hid it with your smile
To make your stay here all worth while