Lost

Rain, echoing softly as it falls A friend silently bawls As the long black box is lowered Into its nest Father glares at me Disappointed, perhaps That I, her daughter, am not upset Would he rather I release the tears The screams, The whys? He would only complain later That I was an embarrassment Then the yelling would begin And I'd be trapped by it. No, better to cry where no one sees Inside the room inside of me. But why mourn it, the burial of her husk? Mother isn't in it's eyes, All that was buried is lies, lies,lies. Dare I ask again where She is? How can She just...not be? Where is her smile, her laugh, her light? Where are the arms that once held me tight? Where is the voice that reassured, soothed, and encouraged?