There is something in the loss of a parent
That cuts into the soul.
It is the emotional, surgical detachment of the heartstring
That has defined life as we know it.
Regardless of recovery time or attempted efforts to normalize,
There is a critical part of your brain
That does not respond.. There is a part of your manhood that leaves
With the man,
And there is another part that will grow back
After facing the harshest reality
To sprout the seeds of a new man-
One who has looked eyeball to eyeball
With life and death
And will gather the courage
To break even.
A truly courageous and honest poem. Technical arguments do not subjugate the emotional power of the piece. It could have had a more metaphorical bent, but its directness is also like the reality of death. It's bittersweet, both as the ashes of a home, and the seed of the future. I liked this poem, please read one of mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bill, you poem is a hard hitting, slightly cold look at the loss of a parent. I like the seeds of hope which lift it at the end. It pretty much catches the feeling.