Tick, tick, tick, tick

The clock is ever going.

When ours cease?

It's not for knowing.

We carry on, always busy

With great care,

Until one day?

We stop.

They gather 'round

Send you off with

Words of praise

And words of prayer

While you sit there,

Lay, and stare.

The dirt falls fast

Upon the lid,

While up above

Tears slide down.

Voices cry,

Songs are sung.

And all the while,

What can you do?


You've gone.

You've passed.

There's nothing left

That you can say,

That you can do,

That will change,

What's come and gone.

Like you.