Bowing out with artfullness
What of the ones left behind. Left remaining
fighting the terror, the loneliness
Anger , a vipers grip
A white scorpion in the desert scutters under the bed.
When he stings you, you will die.
Painfully your limb swells and you heart burns.
Her children surround the coffin.
Pine, beautifully carved
Within she lies peacefully , at rest free from pain.
Outside the box a multitude is gathering, so many people
she had so many friends.
She had a heart of gold, always thought of others before herself.
This is true I can vouch for this myself, but what a temper,
she hadn't learned yet to soften the blow.
How she boiled over and I laughed telling her to let it go.
After awhile I turned away from the pettiness.
At heart she was never petty, she had a heart of gold.
She carried the weight of it in her crown.
Always proud to step in, take care of it
no matter.
Farewell Sheila
splendid
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