Grass smell with a sad nostalgic feeling.
With the sun at its peak,
and all the noise came from the honks
up there on the bridge.
You were there.
Sleeping peacefully among petals
and a bucket of flower,
with a name everyone remembered,
and the date which remarks the last day of the year.
Yes, it's definitely a transition to a new year.
A change that will always remind me
of a thing:
You didn’t come with me.
Blad 67,
on the left side of a small path.
The tears keep flowing,
but there is always a story to tell,
a life update you might curious to hear.
Conversation ends with the smile I could not hide,
cause someone is still taking care of you.
A kid, your mom,
and He who holds you dearly.
And now I am learning to accept
that the cemetery is a perfect destination.
A trip to remind me on
how much we all have grown.
So I'll say it every year:
See you at the cemetery.
