Cold

So i stand there
nothing in it's place is different
it's all the same
it's not a bad thing
it's just unusual
i felt like i didn't belong here anymore
as if it wasn't the place i knew before

i sit there
on the metal bar
staring up at the sky
counting every star

there all there
everything that was before
nothings change
it just somehow feels different

I'm cold
shivers rushing down my back
i can't seem to relax
the grass blows with ease from the wind
so do the trees
i don't
i just sit there
as if unwanted
so i stand up

i walk over to the grave
it's as if it wasn't real
perhaps it isn't real
perhaps I'm dreaming
i close my eyes
and when my eyes awake i find myself lying on the floor
the wind has eased
and the trees no longer send a shiver down my spine

i walk back to the metal bar
continue counting every star
back to reality
tears running down my cheek
not my tears
i don't cry
i don't see the need
after all
what have the dead got to cry about?