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Mom Loss Poems | Loss Poems About Mom

These Mom Loss poems are examples of Loss poems about Mom. These are the best examples of Mom Loss poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Free verse |

Moon bridge

The moon so bold seems cold
with a halo of midnight glow
I sit mesmerized as the night grows old.

I bleed still, even after all these years
and I wait again through the night
aching in the depths of my soul
that no other seems to know
the Loneliness that has become my companion.

In the darkness we wait and confide in the other
our deepest fears as memories fade
in and out each season of change
            the nostalgia tempers the wars of pain
this tempestuous foe of ours
         wails at the gates of midnight
howling the warble of humanities last grace.

How the comfort of minds and hearts
turn from light to deep dark in the face 
of eternities long time clock...

I ache with wanting, with need and passion
          it is a lie that time heals and wounds scar
each night is fresh like the first
                              when I faced realities shock.

Who can wait with me?
Who can hold this hound at bay?
Who can cherish what little love left in me
             and make the broken whole?


I ache to be loved again as the love that burns
and waits inside of me. 
Who can comfort this emptiness and fill the void
                that so many leavings have left?

Cherish and love to honor and protect
             but who can slay these demons that hold my heart in wrath?
Who will walk the sulfur clouds of hell to save my mind
     and deliver my world to the gates of heaven
      with life, not death bridging the distance of pain?

I sit and wait at the floor of the moon each night
waiting for that bridge to carry me yonder,
      this moon who hangs heavy and ripe with the yearning of my soul
with clouds aglow as if I could sweep them across a canvas
   with the brush held in your hand

I rage at her as I wait, but still I wait and weep
as Loneliness and I keep each others company
wishing the clouds of that great moon could truly create
a way to find the lost, a pathway to home, lit by the legacy our love.


Details | Free verse |

Mom

Mom,

I tried to call you last night.

I nearly had a heart attack, as I frantically searched every book in our 

house for a number with your name,

And it wasn’t until the sun slept and the moon awakened that I realized,

Heavens number isn’t in the yellow pages,

And your old cell number is disconnected too,

And no matter how many times I call the operator , 

She wont connect me to “My mommy.”

So I sat there..

Staring at the four walls that have transformed 

from my sanctuary to my hell

Listening to the old church songs that no longer lift my spirit

Because how can songs lift a spirit that is in pieces?

Mom,

Your scent is no longer in your clothes

And those pictures of you and I smiling 

as if there is no more happiness 

in the world to attain

Have faded

And every object that you once touched so freely,

Has been packed into boxes with no name,

The sound from the tape sealing them shut made me cry,

The movers came and no matter how much I pleaded and begged,

They still would not resist in taking all I had left of you away

So mom,

I grabbed my jacket.

Running fast as I could and ignoring the pain that my deep breaths 

caused.

Ignoring the stares of school aged children sitting with their mothers

and fathers,

I ran faster than I ever have.

Because mom ,

They are taking all that’s left of you in small brown boxes to the ends of

the earth

And so to the ends of the earth I will travel to be with you,

Mom.


Details | I do not know? |

THE PRICE OF OIL, PART I

The nurse ordered her to push, push, push
in her best proper voice 
and linen balled in red fists knotted
and sweat falls from red face knotted 
while Billy, head first, tugged and yanked by nurse's proper hands, 
emerges, gently laid upon the blood soaked sand 
motionless in the sulfur haze, almost well-behaved 
amongst the rifle clatter and bewildered screams - 
get down! get down! get down! 
while Billy breathes slowly, undisturbed, 
his eyes closed with new mom 
gently caressing matted, cark curls, 
her fingers, no longer knotted, extended,
Billy's tiny hands and infant fingers 
grip the plastic ribbing 
around the rifle barrel smeared in stickiness that flows out 
from below Billy and onto sand, puddling, his lips chapped and parted, 
suckling as new mom exhausted weeps 
in relief of two arms and two legs and everything okay 
as she holds him, hurting for him, 
everything that might happen, 
everything that will happen, 
and she drifts off to slumber, 
mother and child peacefully spent 
in soft pretty colors 
and the soft murmur of the television as the sedan 
with government plates at the curb 
and a Marine in dress blues (Oh, God) stands plastic in the doorway 
and uses his best proper voice (Oh God, not Billy, Oh God) 
to regretfully tell her, 
and uses surprised hands to catch her when her legs 
regretfully cannot hold her 
and she sobs on the floor like a mother who outlived her son, 
exhausted as the day Billy was born.
Screw this war.


Details | Rhyme |

Heres Looking At You Kid

Dear brother you were only 22
when the good Lord came calling for you

Water had consumed your last breath
Coroners said was a flashback from heroin and meth

I had always looked up to you
but your verbal abuse made me and the others feel blue

black hair  hazel eyes man you look so like Elvis 
imitating shaking your hips and pelvis

blisters and sores on  your young pale face
oh boy how you had fallen from Gods grace

you had a little girl right after you died
Mom always stood by her and your girlfriend's side

first Grandpa then you Dad  Mom and brother Bob
for my life now feels like I've been robbed

missed over 30 yrs of wishing you  birthday greetings
now at the dinner table there is limited seating

but every year when your birthday comes and passes
I will be there to pick your grave site overgrown grasses

I wonder what you would look like today
or even if your hair would be full of grey

I have forgiven for all you had done to me
for I hold no regrets so your soul can be free

heres wishing you another birthday greeting
as I lay this card and rose at your grave site's seating

Please give Grandpa Dad Mom and brother Bob my love
for someday I will reunited with all of you above

For now I have my own little girl
for she is my own everyday  world

I promise to tell her all about you
and how God will turn you into someone pure and new

Rest in peace my loving dear brother
heres another birthday wish I send in passion smothers 






In Loving Memory Of
My Brother Gary

10/ 18/ 48
 6 / 5 / 71









Details | Epic |

We Lost More Than a Dad

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost half of how we came to be
We lost we four girls first love
We lost our Best Friend

We lost more than just a Dad that day
Our Mom lost her Soul Mate, Her other half 
Our children lost their Papaw
We lost our family’s foundation 
We lost the glue that held us together

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost the Strongest man we ever knew 
We lost the man we looked up too
We lost we four girls Teacher of many things

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We four girls lost our Hero
We lost some of our Light
We lost part of our Heart
We lost part of our Soul

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost some of our Courage
We lost some of our Strength
We lost some of our will to fight back
We lost some of our will to carry on
We four girls lost more than a Dad
We lost more than just a Dad that day


Details | Lyric |

Solipsist

Let the Deicide commence.

You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.

I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
your failure!

I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
 
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways

Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own  personal reality 




Details | I do not know? |

Daddy is a bi sexual barebacker

Daddy who are you?
 
Son I am a bi sexual man..
Dad what does bi sexual mean?
It means I like to have sex with men & women.
Why?
Because its how I  feel inside.
Did you love my Momma?
Yes...I did!
What happened to momma?
She died...
How did she die?
She died of AIDS!
How did she get AIDS?
I gave Hiv to her..
Why would you do that?
Because I am a Bi Sexual BAREBACKER!
 
 
 
 WRITTEN BY TG GREEN
 
 
 This happens too much!
If your playing with him be safe..so she can stay negative.. 
 
 
 


Details | Elegy |

My First Grief

In my cradle,
My tiny body was cradled
In my mothers arms.
My gem among gems,
I remember when I cried
You comforted me with 
your soothing words.
Your re-assuring hands
Secured me till Death's 
Cold hands snatched you 
From me,a sucker I was
That needed you most.
Adieu! Sweet mum till 
We cross paths again!







Written by:
Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu


Details | Free verse |

The Last Thing I Remember

“Anna, put on the shoes your dad gave you.” I obeyed.
He had given them to me for my birthday before he
Was taken away.  I haven’t seen him since that day.
But, mom tells us that we’ll see him again someday.

Melancholy had masked my mom’s face all morning.
My brother and sister sat on their bunks with sorrow.
It began to run and grow down their pale pastel cheeks 
As mom somberly told them…

“Your sister and I are going away, promise me you’ll
brush your teeth and always pray.  Peter, you take care 
of your sister, you’re the man of the house now.  It’s not 
that bad, oh my beautiful babies—don’t be sad. I love you!”

“Let’s go!” as the guard pushed me and my mom.  She picked 
me up and placed me in her arms then harmoniously 
hummed my favorite bedtime song.  Then, we walked into a chamber.
She said “Close your eyes” and that’s the last thing I remember.  


Submitted for Abe’s “Leather Voices” contest


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