As if we didn't have enough already.
They'll saddle this burden with no regret,
They'll fly for miles just to see you,
In this green plain where you rooted,
They'll talk to strangers who knew you,
Stories of the life you once loved,
Visions of a father's face, cemented.
Words that never existed, lamented.
When the time comes to see you,
They'll be nauseous,
They'll cry and scream.
As surreal as it may be, you're gone.
Death is another problem,
But, thankfully its the last one.
