A March

A march
Of men
Holding
A box.

It is
Hoisted
Upon
Their arms.

They all
Wear black
And all
Look sad.

A dirge
Plays on
It does
Not stop

They march
And march
Can't stop
Wont stop

They reach
The spot
Where they
Must stop

They place
The box
Into
A hole

Around
The hole
There are
Others

They cry
And cry
They just
Cant stop

A loved
One lost
A life
Ended

They mourn
His death
They all
Wear black

The box
Is down
Inside
The hole

The crowd
Begins
To leave
The hole

The hole
Is filled
The man
Forgot

A few
Moments
He was
Not forgot

That time
Has passed
And now
He fades

Gone now,
Forever
Never
Again

To rise