Thoughts Too Deep Poem by Gulliver Gimble

There are hearts that go empty this early morning.
Joyful abundance of home and hearth now scattered.
Again I am alone and frail with worried tears.

Words are much harder to say than they are to think.
I have become wrecked with feelings, here and now.
The seams of our lives have become stitched again.

Strength is found beyond heaven, it is in your words.
Your voice seems broken, borrowed, not perceived.
But your words always show me strength, pillared.

The days ahead are for everyone now, not just him.
Those days have been canceled, for me, indefinitely.
The memories will come out to fight, not battled alone.

Time is stretched out in front of all our faces, stubborn road.
And it should be realized when we stand in the curves.
Like time, this road is not elastic or forgiving, just a road.

You will share your wisdom when it is our time to be wise.
Although your eyes have closed forever, I still hear, deafly.
I still see blindly, as most of my time stretches across my life.

Focused on things that should not be, it does get dark sometimes.
It is in these very small hours that war is waged helplessly.
The sands of time that helps build our roads, so finely distributed,
now flows through the hour glass tilted, askewed and laughing.
It knows that sooner or later, the hour glass will stay upright.
No hand to turn over the figure and restart the sand.
Hearts will again go empty, when there is no more time.