I Won't Be Here.

When the sky begins to cry,
I won't be here -
hands joined at the sight,
downcast eyes afraid to look -
at the tragedy that befell a girl.

The memories will resurface,
the people will reminisce -
the smile that was plastered upon her lips,
the eyes that were brightened -
that is the joy of a girl.

When the lake begins to flow,
I won't be here -
petals thrown into a casket,
tears falling down faces of pity -
into the flowerbed of a girl.

They say their farewells,
shoving the casket into black water -
holding hands into a prayer,
wishing for a beautiful journey -
of a girl whom they loved.

Reviews

[Chris]

Metaphor, reality, many questions and understandings...

[Abhishek Izy]

Excellent!! Loved the piece and yes the tragedy has been well reflected in the write!! Good work, I must say