May

The rain that brought the flowers,
have withered away my soul.
They rain on me as acid showers.
My life has taken toll.
--On the day you died.

I held it!
I held the words you wrote with my mind.
Which helped me find.
That death and dying are not worth crying.
That being deceiving, is a man of agreeing.
--Do not be the one to cry.
----On the day you died.

I learned not to cry.
Or ask The Lord "why?"
Are you in a better place?
I see your face somewhere perfect.
Or are you burning in hell?
Through your life, I can tell.
On earth you were already there.
--Where is your soul?
----Your body empty.
------On the day you died.

It was an empty feeling,
My heart not healing,
And more the pain continues dealing.
You left me when I need you most.
As you embraced the Holy Ghost.
For in the month of May.
To you I pray.
I remember the day.
The fifth of May.
The day you died.

Copyright January 4th 2002 Joseph Michael Egan