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No more cries, ere the
morning light.
No more whys of this
present plight.
No more random talks
without a notion.
No more discussion
with no emotions.
No more ringing
of the bell.
No more consideration,
gone to hell.
No more talks,
about anything.
No more happiness,
will it bring.
No more of life,
we know today.
No more my wife,
who will go away.

The path, that I once did tread,
covered now with leaves all dead.
A path, both narrow and sometimes wide
we could walk until evening tide.
A path young people could meet,
now muffled with shuffling feet.
A most beautiful ground in the park,
sheltered with tree limbs and trunk bark.
Now on this site, this Winter's day,
no invitation needed, just stay away.

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