You ask, ‘what if I am not there tomorrow’,
The words hang in midair,
Unsaid yet understood,
In anger I lash out,
Not knowing why you wouldn’t be there tomorrow...
Now, I am not made of clay,
I wouldn’t melt or break,
Neither the tears will fill a bucket,
Nor the pain will shake my faith,
But a heart hammered to the wall,
Can only beat for so long.
Maybe the burial shall interest you,
Away from the crowd,
Will be the ‘lovers grave’,
Not a soul to mourn the demise,
Or burn a candle in their name,
Everyone got left behind,
In the rush to possess,
See the irony,
You weren’t there in the first place.
Togetherness is not on a piece of paper,
Or the loving words that fall from your mouth,
It’s the sweetness that fills me,
Even when you are not around.