The Angels will weep at your grave
O boy, do you hear them as you roll
In your mud?
They will sing, heard by no one
Except you mother–
And she will know,
she will know

No good can remain in this world
without you, boy– O boy
The bees will ***** only bile.
The world will lose a billion pounds.
The lilies will wilt ,
and the alphabet song will lose its
joyous melody

You never learnt what algebra meant
and maybe nobody ever does
You were a chef with your mud pies,
a soldier for your sister,
and a monkey when you climbed.
You worked harder than most of us,

Boy, O boy–
perhaps you didn't miss much
No, you didn't lose a single thing
by taking flight when you did
But we,
who live on this rotting earth,
we who only live to work and sleep
we, cruel and violent beings
we lost you, boy

Boy full of dreams
with dirt beneath your nails,
and dirt all over, now.