Why I don't cry

poem written after a confretation with my mom, but it's not a true story

My tearducts are all dried-out;
no moisture to soothe my eyes.
I am sad, no more of a feeling of regret;
regret that I didn't forgive.
and still didn't at the burial.
Too much had occured between us,
to give that much forgiveness.
Feelings of anguish and regret mixd in the atmosphere;
it strangles me, and I grow angry at myself.
I am sadden though,sorry for not forgiving her.
I had stopped talking to her years ago.
The situation grew awkward at her burial;
friends and family come by for their last repsects.
Finally, I walk up to her casket to gaze one last time.
I had hoped to cry; I know I should.
But no tears came;
I looked at her lifeless body.
Nothing.