Dead in December
Stone worn to gray.
Years of time, bleeding fast
Tore words off the page of his past.
Last breath-Christmas Day.
The heartache of loved ones follow his steps.

End of life in December
Remembered. Beloved.
Years of time, they flew by,
Too quick to remember, too soon to ask why.
Last breath–what was said?
Do the surviving remember the voice of their friend?

Led away in December
The dates are fading to gray.
Years of time, far too short
He had barely set sail before he reached shore.
Last breath–how did he pass?
What pains pierced his heart as he breathed his last?

Buried in December.
Raindrops blur the stone’s face.
Years of time, we forget
The moments that make up the life of our days.
Last breath–he is gone.
All that remains is the silence after the song.

Forgotten in December
The ground around him is bare.
Years of time, flowers fade
And hearts grow distant with wear.
Last breath–where is he now?
Do his immortal eyes notice my gaze or my care?

Remembered in December.
Even his short life was real.
Years of time–moments matter.
It takes seconds to break but decades to heal.
Last breath–does he see me?
If he were in my place, would he walk in these shoes?

Made alive in December
The rain breaks and I turn,
Years of time–I have memory.
The gray stone is fading, but in my mind its words burn.
First breath–mine or his?
My footsteps move home, and life runs on  as I learn.

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