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Reflections on a death

"I cannot weep!" a dear friend said:
"We knew each other fifty years,
and suddenly he's dead!"

"Why can't I cry? I loved him so:
he was so much a part of me;
how could he ever go?"

"I see his smile; I hear his sigh.
And now he's gone forever.
I want so much to cry."

He talked for hours of his friend;
of all the good and all the bad
they'd shared before the end.

He could not see what was so clear:
his every sentence was a sob,
his every word a tear.