Poem

It happens, so they tell me,
Every now and then.
A little flicker of hope,
With an all to familiar ending.
What has passed, seems a dream,
Too unreal for me to believe.
Lost to us, one final time,
They pity us for it.
We know not, of how to deal,
But we do know he lives beyond it.
One more time, we shall meet,
But not here, not now, because,
It happens, so they tell me.