One by one they all pass by
stale in stern expression.
They carry on without a thought,
in one heartbreaking procession.
Their world has collapsed
and was sent to the grave.
Their minds are clouded and,
in their heart, grief engraves.
Grins have retreated,
fleeing this dark town.
This now overturned place,
house windows for frowns.
Their river has been depleted,
and their faucet runs dry.
Though their sorrow is there,
they can no longer cry.
Down to the ground,
each one stares.
For if they looked up,
they fear the world doesn’t care.
But the people watching,
though they don’t comprehend,
are there to support
cause they’re friends till the end.
So on this day thick with rain,
there’s a mood full of gloom.
It’s a procession of solemn faces,
from the church to the tomb.
Rest in peace, Kathy.
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