Permission To Mourn Poem by patricia Northall

All you asked of me was to be able to love you,
But this I could not do when forces so strong
Can turn love to hate. Was this then my fate
To watch you die, knowing it was too late.

They had done their job well,
Those builders of hate who make life Hell.
You could not see through their good work
Because of such well produced hurt.

They took your loyal and gentle heart
And used it to form a special part,
Through years and years of dedication
Towards an unrelenting task of separation.

I had far too many bridges cross
To join with those who had the right
To feel the need and share the loss.
Built so strong, they were not meant to fall
Even when I heard Death's call.