Cry for the living

Everyone's trying to smile,
I'm trying not to cry,
It isn't my place you see,
So I continue to try.

Others around me are weeping,
I stare blankly at them,
Holding my mans hand,
As even his eyes dampen.

His mother, uncles and aunties,
Cry as they speak together,
Waiting for the woman they loved,
To be brought by coffin bearers.

His cousins lips tremble,
As they try to make no noise,
Tears dripping off their faces,
Horrible cracks in their voice.

I never met the lady,
I never got the chance,
Yet my body wants me to cry,
It leads me in painful dance.

It isn't my place to cry,
It would almost seem rude,
To seem upset about loosing,
A woman I never knew.

We take our seat together,
I'm sat with him near the family,
Trying to block out the sounds,
Of fresh and painful misery.

Then while I'm looking ahead,
I see in the corner of my eye,
My man hanging his head,
And at last beginning to cry.

I swallow hard and painful,
I mustn't, mustn't join them,
Who am I to be upset?
I nearly fail, but then,

The doors to the far right open,
And men come carrying a box,
A loud sob sounds from the family,
At the coffin carried aloft.

I sit with no expression,
Hiding emotions away,
Because I'm not upset she has died,
I'm upset they have to stay.

They have to live their lives,
Without their precious mum,
They no longer get hugs,
Or kisses beyond sum.

Their mum is in a box,
And its breaking all their hearts,
And its breaking me to watch,
Each of them fall apart.

The man has begun speaking,
And I'm flinching as he does,
Trying to block out,
The painful, fierce sobs.

My heart feels like its breaking,
But never for the dead,
For what have they to fear?
They get to sleep instead.

We others carry on,
In this world, retched and painful,
Without the ones we love,
Making us all tearful.

We have to live in fear,
Of what may happen to us,
But she is safe and sound,
She now never needs to fuss.

It's the family left behind,
Who I feel sorry for,
It's hearing their real pain,
That makes my heart feel sore.

So please, my dearest friends,
I'm sorry that I cried,
On the day they took away,
Your mother who had died.

I swear I wasn't acting,
To show myself all "sensitive",
I simply realised,
It's easier to die than live.

You broke my heart to pieces,
When I saw how this hurt you,
And I couldn't help myself,
I had to shed a tear or two.

It's just because I care,
And I know how it feels,
To feel such deep despair,
Feel like it cannot be real.

I realised through this,
That we shouldn't cry for the dead,
But rather, cry for the living,
Who have to walk on in their stead.