Death

Tears are streaming down his cheeks, shoulders slumped, he appears so weak.
His black jacket is rumpled,
dress shirt and pants are crumpled.


Weariness pours from his eyes,
he struggles to say good-bye.
His mouth moves but no words come,
beaten, suddenly he's mum.


His roses slip from his hand,
tear stained lying on the sand.
On wobbly legs he trembles,
a lost man, he resembles.


He collapses on the floor,
then removed from viewing more.
His cherished orchid has died,
he just wants to run and hide.


The moment seemed ill-fated,
admitting that he hated,
parting from his dearest wife,
the precious jewel of his life.