Two on the left, two on the right,
The box moved slowly,
Carried, lifelessly through the crowd,
Tears, sobs, they mean nothing,
Crying over a loss, of what should be a gain.

Each person feels pain,
I feel none, the non exsistent pain,
Of a heart already broken,
A mind, already torn.

A body suffered,
An arm scarred,
The left to right line,
Each time, a new line,
Each day, a new time...

The love once had, lost,
The box burried it with her,
The final moments of chance,
Gone, slipping away like grains of sand.

The box lowered slowly,
The last drops of tear shed,
The final respects, paid,
Each mourning, each sobbing...

The rain came,
The red line washed away,
The pain was within, the rain,
Sliding down her face - like a blood soaked tear.
She feels no sorrow, she will not wallow...