they overdosed themselves with sugar;

their bloods thickened;

and they expired

from complicated diabetes and aneurysm.

Mourning, I brokedown and contemplated on the whys;

I was unsure

if my tears were for aching,

or I missed the ants-

‘coz they were with us in pink-painting the town.

Perhaps just like him–

they don’t understand what hanging on is all about.

They can’t wait ’til I cross the Mississippi River

to be with him, and assure him,

I was with him in all of our hopes and dreams. . .