November

November

Six feet under
Where is the thunder
Even it knows how to cry
You heave a sigh
Those party-filled Novembers

Now it’s November
She is going six feet under
The ground is dried
You think of who died
The dirt is brown
The ashes go down

Into the ground
No one makes a sound
She was dieing and you knew
Each time death grew
It makes you wonder
Six feet under