The End of a Life

by Jan Oscar Hansen

There were many flowers on her grave
from family, friends and foes,
they feared her lashing tongue.

The evening and night were cold,
in the morning, the flowers looked
white and bloodless.

Why does it have to end like this?
In utter silence it is as she had never lived.

The morning traffic is heavy.
Friday, the week is coming to an end
and no one will ever know her wisdom,
the suffering she had endured.

And if remembered, she was the old woman
who spoke the truth -
No one wanted to hear.

18-Jan-2011

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