Two Of A Kind (A new poem)

Flowers quietly bloom amidst a winter change
The cold we only knew is now all we can remember
With everything but time on the side of the casualties
Another heart yearns for the memories that could have been
The grass is colored with the change of the seasons
The stone is embedded with words that mean something
The hard remains of months that held such hope
Now only hold the remains of those months we remember
If life was meant to be, why is the expendable truth left to die
A heart beat, once upon a time, meant something
Now the silence is murder and the tears were never there
But, I swore I heard the cries of an infant welcomed into the world
I swore I heard something that was filled with joy
The glass that separates shows the truth
As the display of names leaves an empty carriage
The silence of the halls that only bear regretful faces
Turn to blood red walls with the hand prints of the torture
The bloody remains drop to the pristine floor
While the tears that fall find no hope for piece of mind
It was all that could have been done
It was all that could have been said
But I was too young to care anyway
I can hear that first cry of two of a kind
In the middle of a dream that I will not have again until the world finds me
In that mourning glory of all that could have been
But I can hear a cry throughout this bloodied dream
I swore I heard that new born cry of two of a kind
Just a mind playing tricks on the shallow scars of remembrance
Flowers bloom quietly over the cold stone remains
That bear the words of love and hopes never rendered
It was all that could have been done
It is all that is done