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In the Flowerbed Blue lilies in the flowerbed can you all see the tears I've shed? You seem to know that she is dead Your melancholy shades of blue are matching colors of my rue but there is nothing I can do And roses, all, that once were red wilting here in the flower bed Why could I not have gone instead? Your gloomy scents which rise each dawn bloom my memories as I yawn reminding me that she is gone Cruel was the thief that killed and fled, left her cold in the flower bed, a few months after we were wed Crueler still is to be here bereft of her who was so dear without a reason that is clear You flowers stood around her head as she lay in the flower bed still beautiful though she was dead She was the one that gave you life my lovely, gentle, caring wife stabbed three times with a stolen knife Never again will there be "we" the thieving killer still is free these truths do really torture me I read the books that she once read remember all that she once said for hours I cry and hang my head You flowers go on living though, Old ones dying so new ones grow, Devoid of thoughts of joy and woe Dead petals falling as you sway its seems you flowers try to say "All life and pain must pass someday Be glad for all the things you've got forget the things that you have not unless you want your soul to rot." This all is what the flowers said with renewed hope I look ahead more things to do before I'm dead Her life will not have been in vain so long as I must here remain I’ll make her goodness live again And now the reason, once unclear, of why I stay when she's not here matters not for she is near. AMW March 26, 1998 |
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