Post by Tactic. on Aug 2, 2006 0:19:27 GMT -5
You Can't
I look towards your gravestone,
Which so many people surround,
My paralysing grief I wont show you,
As you are lowered into the ground.
They shovel soil atop your box,
The place where you were laid to rest,
My heart races, my muscles lock,
And I feel a weight upon my chest.
I’m filled with crippling realisation,
That my time with you is at an end,
I never prepared for this situation,
The death of you, my precious friend.
My mind is ceaselessly racing,
Insuppressable emotions are stirred,
Through my memories I am pacing,
Tearstained cheeks and vision blurred.
I don’t want you to see me cry,
I don’t want you to see my fears,
So I throw my sights up to the sky,
And sob silently so you can’t hear.
I don't usually write in English, which is probably obvious from the quality of the poem. Just out of interest, would anyone want to read my German poetry?
I look towards your gravestone,
Which so many people surround,
My paralysing grief I wont show you,
As you are lowered into the ground.
They shovel soil atop your box,
The place where you were laid to rest,
My heart races, my muscles lock,
And I feel a weight upon my chest.
I’m filled with crippling realisation,
That my time with you is at an end,
I never prepared for this situation,
The death of you, my precious friend.
My mind is ceaselessly racing,
Insuppressable emotions are stirred,
Through my memories I am pacing,
Tearstained cheeks and vision blurred.
I don’t want you to see me cry,
I don’t want you to see my fears,
So I throw my sights up to the sky,
And sob silently so you can’t hear.
I don't usually write in English, which is probably obvious from the quality of the poem. Just out of interest, would anyone want to read my German poetry?
