Grief Poem by Steve 'easy' Whitacre

All night the clock ticked, and outside a moon like day,
And I, in the ravages of sleep, head on a stranger's breast,
Shed tears, like a task not to be put away,

In the false moonlight, overwhelming grief in my happy bed,
An ocean of tears, only set to undo joys rebirth,
I would not wake at your word, could not speak,
I had only tears to say,

I cling to the dreams, for they are my soul,
Begging for pain's derisive hand had give me rest,
From the nights of living flame, and the darkness within,

note: I have found that we never we do not ever get over grief, but over time, we do learn to live with the loss, we learn to live a different life. A life with our pain...

easy...