Lost Shoes.

Adorning black dresses, black make up too
I make my way to your grave, and lose my shoe.
Turning back, I see a shiny new headstone
With birth and death dates that match, so alone.
Lux Kennedy, a unique name indeed
Queer little flowers that match to a tee.
I feel droplets of water on my cheeks,
and realize that my eyes have sprung a leak.
Terrible despair for one I knew not,
With my shoe, I make my way to your spot.
Kneel down in front of you, to lovingly gaze,
And weep my sorrows, for you and the babe.

Rustling of grass, sounds of melancholy.

A tall man in all black, is now at her tomb
He's the one that lost her, straight from the womb.
Laying down the daisies, I walk over,
To comfort someone, put through such torture.
We sit there and cry, for hours on end,
Father who lost his daughter, wounds to mend.
Daughter who lost her father, tries to assist
But her wounds are too fresh, too heal his cysts.
He leaves at night, with some advice in tow;
The pain never stops, it comes in less blows.
She leaves at night, with so much hurt inside
of what he's gone through, she prays he stays alive.