Sob for the Wooden Box

Misty morning,
On a Saturday.
Peacefulness blew along,
People gather in front of this grave,
Tears running down their face.

Sob. Sob. Sob.
Let them out.
It's just for today.
Or the next few days.

But if you don't know
What's inside this wooden box.
The box which would be
Buried beneath the earth
later on today.

A box of a dead heart,
a dead body,
a dead mind.
No more of the kindness in its face.
Sob. Sob. Sob