In Remembrance Of Patos Poem by Frank Adie

Monica spoke a word to you, and you did not respond,
She tried to lift your hand and it was stiff,
She placed her ear on your chest, and didn't hear it ticking,
The conclusion was unmistakable; death has struck;
Mama wept and wailed disconsolately,
And called your name multiple times in a tearful dirge,
One that expressed the futility of her earthly struggle,
The vanity of her pain of parturition,
And the inexplicable travail -
Known only to a mother who has lost a child;
She stood before your grave,
Tossed a grain of sand on your casket,
Called your name affectionately and bade you farewell,
In the most agonizing tone any ear can behold;
Your death created a gangrene in Mama's psychic,
One that followed her to her grave;
Six feet distance is not too much of a space,
Yet it has separated us forever.
Your memory is forever dear.
We miss you.