Blossoms growing
in earnest spring.
Leaves in meadows,
winds that sing.
Birds call out
with tranquil breath
as I lie still
in flowers of death.
In sunbathed glory,
creatures bask.
And I with them
without my mask.

The only place
where I can go,
be understood
for what I know
is here,
the place of broken dreams.
The graveyard
where you once met me.
You saw without
society's
disguise for ones
like you and me.
But you grew up
deprived of truth,
the one I found
while in my youth.

I handed you
a flower and smiled.
You said,
"Beautiful as always, child."
But you still couldn't
understand
why I stayed in
forsaken land.
You went your way
and I went mine.
You couldn't see
beauty divine.
You still cry every time
you come.
You know nothing
of what I've done.

There's nothing here,
so pass on by.
Ignore my life
until I die,
and then you'll say
those lies and thoughts.
"I loved you."
Yet, here I will rot
until that fateful
day draws near,
and you come home
to greet me here.
The people come
and speak their minds.
"You meant so much."
"You were so kind."

They talk from their
experience.
Wait some time
and forget your death.
The sadness you have
won't subside
from your regrets
before you died.
Feel the emptiness
fill your bones.
Then I will sit
by your gravestone
and say to you
the truth I know.
"I'm dead inside,
like you below."