And here I march

With laden shoulders and breaking back

Carrying memories and mistakes

Of the last three years.

 

I shall bury you, bury you alive

In the same old pit

That I dug to lie down

Him and him.

 

I muse to the music of the dirge

As I carry you all wrapped up

In a shiny new coffin

And recall all that we were.

 

We could have done better.

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