WHEN PAUL LAY DYING
Tears say more than words will ever do at times like these
When Paul died ...
He grabbed my hand as he lay dying
The light in his eyes bright and clear
I ask him, if there's anything I can get him
Paul says, No, he sees me crying
But he says no worries, 'cause he has no fears
He says there's bright, white colors
On the pavement, on the walls of buildings
Over there
Bright clean splashes of purples, pinks, yellows and
Soft greens
I turn away. His eyes are crying. So too are mine
Blue in the sky is blue in his eyes, and my tears
are white, clear crystals rolling down
Then the bells are tolling and soft butterflies fill
The air. I see autumn leaves of orange and brown
Drift by being driven by wind.
They make a happy shower of light as they rain slowly
Like Spring flowers to the ground
Something changed.
He lay now stiff and long and colorless
My brother's dead, I didn't say goodbye
He lay now stiff and long and colorless
I was too afraid. I let him see me cry
About the Creator
Jyme Pride
Some people form love affairs with numbers. Others, it's music, sports, money or fame. From an early age, mine has been words. Oftentimes, it's words that makes a person . . . .
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