I watched her pass by as I stood on the door,
She barely cared, she merely smiled.
I knew she smiled at my pain, I knew she had a chuckle,
Yet, I could do nothing more, just stand by the door.
It was cloudy, the weather I love and she hates,
And then the sun peeped though, the weather I hate and she loves.
Her smile seemed to grow bigger, the sun made her glow.
The streets were empty, most people on a motion slow,
I sat down by the door and watched the procession grow.
She was at the head, as always, smiling but sadly now,
I think she wished that I would stand up, would follow her through.
I knew it was too late, yet I knew where she had gone.
I decided to follow them, or maybe later then.
I again stood by the door and saw the empty streets.
As if no one knew that she ever walked past,
I will visit her grave later and cry alone and without fear.....