This book of poetry is a eulogy of what used to be..
this eulogy is for the old me. Eulogy for the memories..
Eulogy for the one that cries. Eulogy for the one who hides.
Eulogy of the elder lies. Eulogy for the conditioned ties.

And as she looked on down the road.
The weight of it was quite the load.
And the helping hand has gone ahead.
And the thoughts and prayers had been given and said.
And the footprints trailing her do press.
And the wind does twist and spin to confess.
And the tree roots pull for justice due.. and the humming calls her onward through..
to the end that crawls..
and in the shadows crease..
and the hearts begging for darkness to release.