Broken Hearts Will Mend

Mother, you look awfully dressed up to go and watch
Death creep in like the cold underneath blinds,
Trying to shut out the coldest depths of winter,
Don’t you think?

He’s not even gone yet,
Not even fading,
And yet you always think he will.
Why are you never worried?
Why does it not bother you that soon,
That too soon for us left behind,
He will leave, walk towards some stupid shining light,
Leave us here, leave her here,
Why do you not cry?
Why no tears?

Because death is just another bit of life,
And we cannot avoid it.
And I am not afraid of death because
It is loss of consciousness,
There is nothing to be afraid of.
Long lives, like short, have to end,
And the broken hearts they leave behind,
Well, they will always mend.