A single word, but full of pain,

It echoes all around.

'Gone', they say, a single word

Full of grief and loss.

Tears in eyes, a broken heart;

How could it be so?

Breaking down, sobs echo,

The pain suffocates.

It's a pain in your chest,

A stab in your heart.

'Gone'. The word resounds,

Ringing through your skull.

'Gone', you think, what does it mean?

It seems so wrong, a word made-up.

And then, despite your mind's refute,

The definition comes so clear.

'Gone' is not a word made-up.

Death is not pretend.