4:49 pm

She thinks she's in denial, maybe numb.

Doesn't feel real, like he's not really gone.

She goes to cry alone, by the pond scum

And all she thinks of is that he's passed on.

She'll always hear that shaky voice saying

'He stopped breathing.' All that can be heard now

Are the crying bullets ricoheting

From his sons' wounds, to feel better somehow.

While she's hiding away, the others don't

Dare to seek her, She's before been broken, 

Although she won't allow it to be known. 

Her dying pain will never be spoken.

Death took him. But he's in a better place.

He'll be in our hearts, left without a trace.