Another Blue

a poem by Ash sarge, USA

Dearly Beloved,
(Yeah I guess money buys that)
We are gathered here today,
(How about never have to gather,
This way,)
To pay respects to your departed,
(Why do we have to depart,)
(And why show the respect,
She had in life and so much more, now)
The imaginary drops, are felt,
The same ones the grey skys,
Trick you into feeling..

I could tell you,
What the little dude,
In my radio said,
But all of you won't listen,
Like I don't listen..
This family is blue..

Carry on orator.
Drink the water we set before you,
I know it's hard to feel for strangers,
You gaze at the sky,
Not because tears,
Burn your eyes...
But your touched by the ghosts,
That harold,
Univesal weeping..

You can tell them,
The ragged stack in your hands,
Tells of a flood,
But they won't listen,
Just like I don't listen..
The family is blue.

Thunder rolls ,
Lightning cutting the horizon,
Is the only movement,
It's getting darker,
The great orator leaves,
No light lost there.

I sit in rows,
Like everyone else,
I feel a different degree,
Of love and faith,
For each face..
Still I fear my heart,
Is the only one beating.
Why do all of you,
Have to be blue...

Like the rain, the storm,
The end is not so close,
Beloved will be born again,
In a hundred years.
The sky betrays what hope,
I try to bestow..

I get up from my chair,
I place a white carnation,
On grandmothers coffin,
You'll be blue over me,
In a hundred and fifty...

I think she's listening.

W.B.B.

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