Our hearts die for you
a little more...
I arrive on scene
In the big red truck...
It's difficult for me to pretend
That I am not upset or sad...
Thomas H. Hulme
at rest 23rd of january 1998...
Dearest Grandma
Your death hits me sharp...
For all the words I could not say
For all the times I've made you cry...
Everyday reminding you
With ache and pain on my chest...
Even though I've lost the best ones,
To an eternal sleep I've always dreaded...
Another lonely night arrives
Walking alone in my mind...
Since when was tapping at your
door a guest's habit...
Why is the heart concerned with pain?
And the brain concerned with thought...
You were here yesterday,
Talking...