Oh, the Hurt
As I walk the long path I weep,
for all that I have lost to death;
still- I have memories to keep.
The breeze is a silent sweet breath.
It hurts so bad,
it makes me sad.
Why do I come?
I come for them,
those dead souls who wait for me here.
Here, in this peaceful place of tears,
where birds sing all the day in trees;
oh- I will come for all my years.
yet, if I could make time freeze.
It hurts so bad,
it makes me sad.
Why do I come?
I come for them,
to lay red roses on their tombs . . . . .
____________________________
June 17, 2016
Poetry/Verse/Oh, the hurt
Copyright Protected, ID 17-8020-79-17
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
For the Standard contest, If it hurts so bad, why do we do it?
Sponsor, Silent One, Judged 06/2016
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2016
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