I shouldn’t dance in graveyards,
Shouldn’t laugh or play music or
whistle songs we learnt in school.
Graveyard’s not for that kind of stuff,
I shouldn’t play games on people’s graves.
Disrespectful to those who came before,
I used to ask who those were and what
before meant. But they just stared at me.
So I stopped.
People stare when they don’t have answers.
People talk in graveyards, sometimes even cry.
No one ever talks back, least not that I heard.
But they keep talking anyway.
Mommy plants flowers in the graveyard,
just like in our backyard.
Said Daddy always liked daisies best.
But Daddy liked to dance, too,
and play music.
Maybe Mommy won’t stare and cry so much,
if we do what we did when we laughed.
Before Daddy went to war.
So I asked Mommy and she said next time
we can sing a song.
One I learnt in school.
One Daddy hadn’t heard yet.
She cried when she told me
but that’s okay.
Sometimes Daddy used to cry when we danced.
Sometimes people cry when they’re happy.
Sometimes even when they’re
dancing in graveyards.