We lay the coffin down into the grave carefully,
like a mother lowers her child from her hip.
A bright sunny day, in the heat of summer,
but I feel a coldness in my chest.
Found abandoned on the side of a country road,
tossed aside like an empty beer can out the window.
Why did they do all they did to you? Why did you suffer?
Who are you, my child? Lost and unclaimed. Happens too much.
We don’t know your name. We don’t know who loved you.
But we love you know. We’ll watch over you. Not rest.
My child, the priest is here, and we who fight for you.
May God welcome you. May He wipe away your tears.
I lay flowers on your marker, pretty lilies, white and soft.
We are men, and we are weeping. Why did they do this to you?
The sun is bright. The day is hot. But darkness lurks here.
I’ll fight for you. Not rest. Whoever loved you, we love you now.