No One Knew You

Tombstones are the scenery today,
as I walk along the country road to
your grave. Leaves are falling swiftly
now, and my tears are cascading freely.
Fall was your favorite season, but who
would know but me?

Does it hurt to know that no one really
knew you? A bystander in your own life
watching from the sidelines, wishing for
a different face to go by.

I come across the house that you grew up
in. The paint is peeling from the side and
the wood is growing thin. A ladder goes up
to the roof from beneath your bedroom window,
and only I know the truth of why its there.

Does it hurt to know that no one really knew you?
Or that you died of a fall from that same roof?
Watching on your back the stars up in the sky,
and me lying right beside you afraid to meet
your eyes.

Snowfall is the scenery today, as I trace the
epitaph with my finger on your grave. Memories
will chase me forever to this place, as I recall the
dying smile upon your face.

Yes, it hurts to know that no one will ever know
you. But I am glad to know I had you to myself.
And while that thought alone is very, very selfish;
how could anyone care when know one really knew
you.