I sit alone.
Wondering what went wrong.
I was talking about my plans for the future.
I could not understand.
So cold were his face and hands.
I ask my God why?
Silence was his reply.
Another loss, I have gained.
I held my chest to stop the pain.
My God! Now, my Father?
So, innocent and young.
I held his hand close to my heart,
this was how my mourning started.
I love you mom and dad, you are in good hands.
No more harm or pain from me.



(This poem is about what I felt when my father died, and I was beside the deathbed holding his hand)

Mahfooz Ali

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/font-color-purple-b-you-are-in-good-hands-a-grieving/