The Unpainted Tomb #2 Poem by Robert Roberts

I would often come here,
sit next to my friend
even if i knew not who laid here,
we would speak and share
a word of his life and
how no one could cared,
it troubled me and left concerns
of the future oh so near
and what fate left for me to bare.
i laid in the midst of the cemetery
beneath the big gloom tree
would stare up just to see,
why such a spot, and who was he.
the church bell chimed once again
as the crowd increased to send their
loved one home, they cried and they sang,
they shared tales as they
reminisce on how it began,
but when the clock struck one
the crowd cleared up and they were all gone,
all but one who walked around
draped in black, not a smile nor a frown
a blank eye stare. like he had
the worries of the world to bare
he asked me to leave and said i couldn't be here.