• People shuffle past the box
    Gaze at the face and curly locks
    Burdened with the weight of years
    They don’t bother to hide their tears

    Sorrow descends, a heavy depression
    Trailing behind the silent procession
    Weaving, circling, then comes to rest
    Upon the one who death possessed

    The child to whom they pay their respect
    Is wrong is some way they cannot correct
    From their lips escape soft cries
    As they wish their little girl would rise

    Those lips that spoke, the cheeks that flushed
    Now lie still, forever hushed
    The eyes that sparkled and danced with glee
    Motionless stare and do not see

    The mourners whisper past and sway
    And slowly they all drift away
    Leaving the memories, leaving the pain
    Leaving the child so cruelly slain

    She lies forever in this place
    The little girl with the stone cold face
    She lingers still in the heart and mind
    Her links to the world she left behind