Heaven meets poor

A poor man's ashes fly away,
Uncovered by the blanket of wood.
No one is brave to stop them,
They trespass into alcove of rich.
The day saw his mental toil,
Of stones pressing on head.
The night saw his physical pain,
Of hunger which grew every minute.
Strand by strand passed the time,
Drop by drop fell the sweat.
The sobs came in trifle and then torrent,
Who was to care for him after all!
The cagey behavior of life made him sad,
The cries of his offspring made him bad.
As the last breath of his dissolved in air,
Heaven lifted him and made a pair.