The Passed Away

Ever since you've been gone
I just sit out in the lawn.
Hoping I'll make it to May,
or at least through that day.

All I remember is your pale, cold face
and my heart's accrueing pace.
Crying myself to sleep for a week
when comfort's all I seeked.

I still can't believe it.
It's like the whole funeral was a skit,
but the paper read passed away
and people were asking if I was okay.

So many tears
and my dad's many beers.
We all react different
but none of us know where the tears went.

We can only hope
and try to cope.
Maybe they're in a better place
and you'll once again see their face.