Pull down the shades and draw the curtains,

Shut off the phone, lock the door; hang the black wreath

Allow me to feel the pain of my grief

Let me taste the burning salt of my angry tears

An unfinished story; pages torn and ripped out

Dented metal and a boy’s broken body

An angel wishes to escort him Home

Before his soul departs he cries out where he lies

A thought in mind, an undertaken route

A father cries out and curses his God

Pall bearers carry his unburdened weight

As the bagpipe drones out a funeral dirge

An unconditional love since birth

An unconditional love until my death

I sit in the darkness mourning my child, my son

My soul torn because your thread was cut short;

Adrift as Virgil contemplates my sins