Lately I talk to the dead a lot
I don't know if they hear me or not

I speak to my father, recently passed
As though he were here with all his sass

I talk to my uncle and my grandfather
Sometimes I wonder if to them I'm a bother

I talk to my brother-in-law, freshly gone
And ask him why, with a silent moan

I even talk to those gone longer
Though if they're listening, I am left to wonder

I don't pray to a known God or Devil
It will all be clear someday, good or evil

I find myself lost in thought
Wondering what life is all about

I talk to the dead in my family
I ask them for advice, truthfully

I ask them to watch over those of us left here
And to guide us beyond the pain and fear

I don't know where they may be
But if anyone asks, they are with me

I just know these conversations
Help my mind into relaxation

If you find yourself wondering
About the mass of memories gathering

Open your heart and speak awhile
To those gone but listening with a smile

Cousin, grandparents, uncle, brother of heart
Still more, father, you are such a large part

One day I'll know if you heard me all those times
That I cried, laughed, chatted, and asked in rhymes