Grieve Not
by Mary Fyre
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there, i do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow.
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain.
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am the morning hush.
I am the graceful rush
of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am the star shine of the night.
I am the flowers that bloom.
I am in a quiet room.
I am the birds that sing.
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
In memory of Mr. Forrest Lim, our sarcastic yet funny PW teacher who chased us into handing in our work on time. And to all who have lost someone, regardless of whether they were close or not.
Dear sir, i'm sorry i didn't attend your wake-- by the time i knew, er, it was too late. But i hope that you left us well and happy, and that you didn't suffer. and that may you be well and happy. I hope that you'll find a good rebirth. I'm sorry for all the trouble that we've given you. And thank you sir for all you've done for us. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
