As I lay my face in a bouquet on your grave

As I lay my face in a bouquet on your grave

As I lay my face in a bouquet on your grave,
In this rose petalled field, not a rose petal fell.
In a sad world filled with hate and fear,
Of all the blood shed spilled, not one drop of a tear.
Apathy prevails and sympathy recedes.
The last bottle of empathy will be empty when I leave.
My jaded heart bypasses corrupt minds.
But both, former and latter, will eventually ensue with time.
Because that is the common denominator-
The grasp of our dreams deferred and our briefness here is a bitterness stimulator.
The logic is to be adored- Our dreams are pleasantly detoured 
Via scenic route on the way to the steps of our door.
Plus we are affected by the effects of others' choices-tainted or pure-
And we are mandated to accept it all.
So I grieve, 
Knowing that this is all we have to believe.
You on the other hand, were allowed to leave.
Please tell me, is there more to be seen?

~Brennan Brenoso

"When I write, I take flight; I Feel Free When I'm Me"