Grave Aside

Far gone now, the one for the other,
Belied and the truth untold.
Still, did the tale, born unmothered,
Seek its redress, and so unfold.

Thence, did the ruth arise.
Yet, no longer could the mourners
Be counted on to give their bottomed best
Despite the so-called satisfaction
allegedly guaranteed.

There will be no refund
If unsatisfied with the tears shed.
The problem lies in the false expectation
That a “really good cry” solves anything.

The mourners serve only as the chorus,
Their presence an explication
of many things mostly unasked.
And those asked, answered with a shrug
and a knowing nod.

Near come, none for the other,
Derides the last lie told;
Alaugh the one who begat the falsehood
forgets the auld,
And goes back and back
to the ancestral wold.