The Burial

With my husband and kids and friends gathered round, I could barely utter a coherent sound. During the burial rite I whispered lest I cry. But goofed around as I lowered them down. Joked with my kids about playing in dirt, wondered why I didn’t feel sad and hurt.

My world is upside down
Yet I seem like a clown
Nothing seems real
Shock is what I feel

You see me smile
You wonder all the while
Where are my tears
Why aren’t they here

This is no time to joke
Why can’t I be serious like other folk
Like I just don’t understand
The serious time at hand

You wonder why I don’t cry
Why my emotional responses are awry
My façade is strong
Though it seems so wrong
This should be grief
My joy robbed by a thief
Happiness taken a break
Yet I think it’s all a mistake

Like this box I bury isn’t mine
Pile on the dirt, and I’ll be fine
Everything settles like the dust
Return to life as I must

Looking back on each time
Amidst the sorrow, I was sublime
Yet afterwards the rain would fall
Winds would blow, and sorrow call

Yet everyone else had moved on
Solemn faces from that day were gone
Each time I feel I missed my chance
To join with others in the dance
The emotions came too late for me
When everyone else could all see
I was blind and so
After that day, their emotions would go

Since then I’ve been like a lonely tree
Standing against the force from the sea
Expected to return to my norm
Feeling left alone to weather the storm

Why did I have to seem so tame
Why can’t everyone’s feelings be the same
It appeared I didn’t comprehend
So the wrong message I did send

How I wish our emotions would align
Or that somehow you’d see a sign
Stages of grief are in disarray
So they shouldn’t be arranged that way

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