Her hands grew cold,
Her eyes stayed shut,
My heart it broke,
When her coffin, my hand touched,
My heart lurched when,
Her coffin touched the freshly dug dirt,
Roses thrown in after her,
Then they left, hearts full of hurt,
The house grew cold,
The sun didnt shine,
Her perfume filling my nose,
Memories of when she was still mine,
'You need to eat' they told me,
But how could I?
When I wanted to drink in her laugh and savor her smile,
But now all there is left is a question, Why?
Heavier and heavier the days grew,
My wrinkled hands grew cold,
My eyes stayed shut,
My heart she still does hold,
Two weeks after they had,
Clasped her wrinkled hands together forevermore,
They too laid mine one over the other,
While I still stayed yours,
Flowers followed my descent,
Prayers rang through the air,
The cries fade, as the footsteps do,
Dirt trapping me there,
And then suddenly the sun started to shine,
The birds chirped their happy tune,
And I, well i was with you,
On the day that our graves me.
Something I wrote in creative writing class when we were told to write about growing old
