Drop

       The orchard of Apple trees
Was once the best crop
The branches are bare now
There’s no Apples to pick or drop

Outside my window I see a Butterfly
In a flutter ballet and a Rabbit hop
In my emptiness is the sound of silence
You can hear a pin drop

There’s a pain so unbearable
My heart is breaking, no signs it will stop
In my overwhelming weakness
To my knees I am forced to drop

My mind is in chaos and in a
Whirlwind I am spinning like a top
The clouds have turned grey
The rain started to drop

My uncle Dean has passed away
I have seized in function I’ve closed shop
From my eyes uncontrollably
My tears begin to Drop

Written By:Charles Kean
Copyright ©️ 05/12/2023
All rights reserved
In memory of and dedicated to
My Uncle Dean
Passed 05/11/2023