By the grave

Sitting by the side of the grave

Old memories are all I crave

Sadness and agony has me as its slave.

Plain Tears role down my cheeks

Engulfed by pain I cry for weeks

I failed to count wins I count heart weeks.

I punch in revenge at the red soil

Only to worsen the ripped boil

hands covered in a like red oil.

I fool myself that am fine

imagining her soul waiting for me at cloud nine

Only to end the day with a bottle of wine.

She is gone!

Her demise left me torn

Taking with her the joy I felt when she was born.