See those smiles behind the glass
And see the hue of life in those eyes.
And swift as pain can pass,
Death met them sans disguise.
Think they us disloyal?
With knitted brows do they fret?
Our souls enslaved by mortal soil
Await the time to forget.
They suffer the dim and dusty stares
Of friends in torment unresolved.
They watch the anger that conscience bears,
In so many tears dissolved.
See those smiles behind the glass
That laughter haunts in ghostly echoes.
mark their youth as ages pass
A weary kiss to old-framed sorrows.
See the hearts and hands that roughen
With each silent, sliding coffin.

Nadia Di Paola
© 1997