PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sit in the cemetery surrounded by people, but yet I am alone,
Only confusion, heartache, and pain grow in this garden of stone.
The flowers are watered by my pain,
My tears fall like a pouring rain.
You were planted with love in my womb,
For 5 months I watched you grow.
Why you were picked when you was,
Only God will ever know.
A bud taken before it could bloom.
The product of our love, harvested too soon.