Dealing With Death Poem by Not Long Left

Bob buries his grief deep into the soil
daily he speaks to the bemused flowers.

Susan stares out of the window maybe
waiting for the departed to rise and return.

Margaret studies the faces smiling at
their smiles and reliving the days.

Danny visits the bedroom each night
closing the windows, turning on the lamp...

Harry sets the table for two, staring ahead
waiting for her to smile and thank him.

Bridget puts 'Motorcycle emptiness on repeat
watching him play air guitar and mouth empty words.

Bert squirts a little perfume onto his collar
so she remains but a sniff away.

And me, well I write about how everyone else
copes in order to not have to cope myself.