Monday, March 30, 2009
You Are In Good Hands: A Grieving
I sit alone.
Wondering what went wrong.
I was talking about my plans for the future.
I could not understand.
So cold were his face and hands.
I ask my God why?
Silence was his reply.
Another loss, I have gained.
I held my chest to stop the pain.
My God! Now, my Father?
So, innocent and young.
I held his hand close to my heart,
this was how my mourning started.
I love you mom and dad, you are in good hands.
No more harm or pain from me.
(This poem is about what I felt when my father died, and I was beside the deathbed holding his hand)
Topic(s) of this poem: grief