Time Is Only A Bandaid Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Sorrow fills everyone in life, learning how to handle it
without having any directions is the trick to living with
it.

Pulling our hearts apart at times, crying, not wanting to
live, sinking into great depressions.

Time is only a bandaid as we move farther from the loss,
it takes us slowly down pathways of our solo journeys.

Strengthening character and spirits, we move at our own
pace in order to become the person we thought had been
killed at the outset of our grief.

Now knowing we have made it through, we still are kneaded
with sorrow, only now we know what to expect and move through
it, tears being spent when we need to release them.

Walking through our lives, looking around, realizing that
we have kept on and have come out the other end of the long
and darkened tunnel.

Seeking new pathways, our spirit bringing us into new depths
out of necessity, combing our minds, we struggle and find
new footholds to grasp onto.

Moving silently into our futures, holding onto the love we
miss so desperately, yet releasing it's pain in order to
carry on with our lives, even when not really wanting to.