Raw Grief Poem by Practicing Poetess
Raw Grief
How can there be an 'us', when half is gone?
And there is no light with the dawn
I find it hard to carry on
Since you departed, all is ash and grey
No difference 'tween the night and day
And I can't seem to find my way
I blindly grope through life, as in a fog
Or in a murky, swampy bog
Without the help of a guide dog
Death is a monster, taking those we love
A thieving hand, clad in black glove
It stealthily through life does move.
With you, I had a love so rare and true
The bliss we shared is known by few.
I'm completely lost without you.
Fortunately, it does get better with time.
It is a blues poem beautifully narreted. The penmanship is high and touching. I eulogize with thanks.
This kind of grief does get better with time but it never goes away completely. So sorry you had to suffer such a loss.
Barry, I knew that, being a counselor, you would understand grief (probably encountered that a lot with clients.) The greater the love, the greater the measure of grief! I still miss Ed sometimes, even now.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 9:02:05 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Very Heart Felt Inside! ! ! ! ! Excellently Wrote Out! ! ! ! ! Blessings To You! ! ! ! ! ... Thank You! ! ! ! ! For Sharing This! ! ! ! ! Beyond Words Or Numbers! ! ! ! !
Thank you, Bec. As poets, we are capable of capturing the highest heights and the deepest, darkest depths, and putting them to paper. (You already know this, as a fellow poet!)