Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Best Bereavement Poems

Below are the all-time best Bereavement poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of bereavement poems written by PoetrySoup members

View ALL Bereavement Poems

Search for Bereavement poems, articles about Bereavement poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Bereavement poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

Definition & Discussion of Bereavement Poems
Read Bereavement Poems

See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

My Heart Beats For You

Walking aimlessly through the woods
Searching for that spot we once stood
Pouring out my heart and my tears
Reliving memories of those special years

Red and orange and purple from green
Rich autumn colors, a sight to be seen
The winds of change quickly blowing in
With it a new chapter will soon begin

Not ready to give up, I can't let go
Where am I headed, where will I blow
Lost without you, what am I to do
Darling, my heart is still beating for you

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Do you remember me

They walk silently along my hallways.
Floors littered with faded finery.
Do you remember my Granduer?
I had once been called the Queen of the sea.
Pulled down to the ocean's floor.
Swaying silently, so many sad souls
They are entombed here 
Forever a part of me 
Left to wander my halls
Sharing this watery hell
Faces frozen in skeletal grins
Evidence of our eternal sadness
Fish now swim across my stage
The band is silent
Still I remember
I absorbed them note by note
They played till my last moment
Yet it was not for my benefit
For I had betrayed them
My promises were empty
Temptation, travel, time together
Some mercifuly escaped
What did they remember of me?
Some came back in ghostly form
Searching for those I had taken from them
I will not release them
For I do not wish to be alone.




Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Tanka 2 about The Cherry Blossom and Life

on melting snow first cherry blossom withers too soon mum ties pink ribbons to the white casket Or on melting snow first cherry blossom withers too soon mum unties ribbons from empty cot-bed
Inspired by Chris`tanka contest,not for the contest

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

I Saw You Amongst the Wild Horses -part 2-

But you—the wild one
You were compulsive, fiery and inventive
I had my share of the wild and free
But you were molded from them—with insane beauty
Despite our differences we remained together
Perhaps you think I mean to save you—tame you
But I merely long to contain the sun
And hinder the pervasive burns
So that in so doing, I may always keep you warm
For cold wild shall destroy
As warm wild shall invent
Searing wild will one day save the world
And then destroy it all the next

Dear beloved one,
I saw you amongst the wild horses 
I did not dare touch you
Because I was afraid of Change
But Change was a delight—an apple to your eye
And I did not realize that Change was embedded in my very being
So when you shyly approached me,
I knew you were hungry
I fed you ample laughter and music
And soon I gained your highest respect
Along with a thousand other mystical blessings
I will not always remain by your side as if I am among you
But perhaps I shall linger at a distance—level to your luminosity 
As words continue to flow, I shall slowly inch myself forward
To be frank—you are the greatest companion in my world
Hot or cold—seared or chilled
You will always remain among the wild and free
And that race is sadly. . .
Slowly dwindling
Tell me you shall never become me
Never Change

In honor of you,
One day I will reach out my quivering hand
And you will consume the Apple of Friendship
Until then, 
Look beside you
As was inevitable—
I have changed for the better
Because you are—and always will be
My very greatest friend till the end

-this Ode was meant to be altogether; I hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you-

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

The Flame Is Still Burning

Death isn't what you think it is,
At least not when you sit with Death

Death I know. I know because once
I was in the same room with Death

Death isn't horrific, she, he is not a monster,
it was not frightening when I met Death

Death claimed my father when I wasn't there 
but she, he waited for me, the night I met Death

Death took the warm breeze from my father's chest
left him cold to the touch I was there next to Death

Death stole my father's voice left him quiet among the roar
of silent tears. I felt the moisture in the room next to Death

Death left with no more then what filled shallow pockets
graciously bowed on the way out, so I bowed to Death

Death I knew walked out empty handed as he does
my father's life still burning in memories, so I bowed to Death

my father's body was dead in that hospital bed 
but I couldn't help kiss warm my father's flesh
but I couldn't help speaking to him "I love you Dad"

three years passed since that night
my father is still alive in memories bright
he accomplished so much, touched so many
never a time when I needed my Dad
never once was he not there to help

how could you be sad for a man like that

he lives in my heart sheltered there
even when I am long gone he will live
preserved by my children and then theirs

how could you feel sad for a man like that

Always stood a giant in the largest of crowds
He was loved and admired, he never died
He was just needed somewhere else

Death isn't always what you think. he, she came and left
light as a feather I barely felt the presence of Death

Death?
 I've met him, when I meet her again
there will be no fear 
Death! 

It isn't always what you think it is.
When I met Death it was gentle as a lamb.



Maurice Yvonne
09/23/2014
Contest: The Poet III
Sponsor: Gautami Phookan

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

The Last Gold Leaf

The last gold leaf hangs on the bough;
Summer is just a mem'ry now.
You, too, have gone, my golden friend;
Our summer days came to an end.

We said goodbye; our chapter closed.
 How I will miss you no one knows.
 On eagle wings you split the skies;
Your spirit soared. You had to fly.

My earthbound soul will bear its grief
Severed from you on mortal reef;
But returning from yonder shore,
Your love in waves will wash me o'er.

You've gone before, my trusted love;
I wait behind, your mourning dove;
Yet, from across the great divide
Your voice to me in dreams confides.

No, I think not that dreams they are;
T is communion of the near with far.
On such sweet songs I stake my claim
To know and love you once again.

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

ANNABEL LEE

Sweet island girl now in Heaven
The angels separated you from me
You only lived to love and be loved
My one and only Annabel Lee

Death had no power to conquer
Bright eyes made darkness fade
In your sepulcher by the ocean
Until my death every night I laid

Surely now that I'm in Heaven
No more need to dream of you
For just around the next corner
My Annabel Lee will come in view

But the jealousy of winged seraphs
Was even higher in this place
Confronted by such perfect love
Made it impossible for us to face

But a deal was brokered in Heaven
The two of us sent back to Earth
As unknown strangers, separated
And both starting at our birth

In our life we must find each other
Fall in love again or we'd go to Hell
But if discovery and magic happened
Forever in Heaven with a story to tell

For many, many years I've wondered
Drawn to seek a girl by the sea
Is it possible tonight that I met you
Could you be my Annabel Lee?

*A sequel to Edger Allen Poe's "Annabel Lee" poem.  I pray in style and substance I do not embarrass myself or this poet master!

Contest: Linda's "Never Entered Into A Contest #12"
Date: 9-12-14
Poet: Lyric Man

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

OK

There's no light in my eyes
faded for so long, i cannot see the hope
that was once there long ago.
as these tears fall, all i can do
is look around, i cannot
hear the sounds of your voice
coming through.

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.

my soul grows cold like this tomb stone
the darkness always falls, pitch black
now i am all alone.
and as i fade, i guess i'll cease to be
nothing left inside i have died
so you could breathe.

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.

in my dying breathe
the air rushing from my chest
i guess there's nothing left, no parting
shots no more time for arguments.
looks in your eyes, i know you'll
leave me now. our time has just
run out. our time is over now!

But i'll be OK
please don't try to follow me
it's not safe to go alone
there are things you shouldn't see.
i'll be OK
i know you must hate me
just give it some time
someday you will be fine
just know that i'm all right.
just know that i'm all right....

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

For Linda

I do not feel your pain
Rather I share your pain
I do not suffer for you
Rather I suffer with you
I do not weep for you
Rather I weep with you…

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Eternal Breath-WIN

Eternal Breath


Hardly could I see you through my watery eyes
Holding you in my arms never to let you go
As your existence dribbled to the ground
There was no light, no air and no sound
What all could I see, was just you.
A death rattle took your last breath
At very moment, without dying, I was dead.

I see you in every facet of a single crystal
In a single flower I see you in each petal
I change my stance to see you in each tree
With outstretched arms of the branches
In all life I find you hiding and thriving
I have lost myself to the fading dreams
As snowflake melts in the summer sun
I am nothing but a stranger in my own house

                    +++++

Date : 10-11-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
First Place Win
Contest: Eternal Breath by Gail Angel Doyle

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Dusk

Dusk covered the land
Like a million blankets the sun blackened
The dawn of the fiends has come
The imps arise from black holes

Thick dark smokes engulf the land
Red rivers of marred blood run freely
Hyena’s laughs and cries so vivid
Flimsy hopeless screams fill the night

 Police sirens nowhere heard
All victims of the diabolic demons
The flattery head men are quiet
The dreaded gloom has no march!

The denizens of slums asphyxiated
The fierce fires devour their huts
Mothers and babies murdered in cold blood
Justice slapped on face with no utterance

Remnants of the paranoia, brave cowards
Would sneak and live to tell
Their seeds in songs and narratives
Who will burn the blankets of terror.

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Evacuation and Loss

The night shone for the full moon,
Sky brewing a coarse monsoon,
Bolted were windows, locked were doors,
The frequency of death frighteningly soared.
But who was this infant high upon the hill?
He denied the storm and just stood stone still,
Eyes shut like blinds and fingers dug into ground,
Felt he could move no muscle, for was sadly street bound.
Shutting his eyes, arms wrapped tight round
His skinny body, battered and browned
Praying for the sake of friends, family and all
However imaginary, he imagined them call
 “Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry, remember our love”
Joining their gaze in the beyond above,
He softly mumbled a song to forget,
The once daily song that was always a duet,
Alone on that hill without any feel,
Of an afterlife he finally accepted, wasn’t real
Tears met the floor, now bathed in yellow light,
As lightning struck him too quick to fright,
Child lay on the floor, dismembered and black,
Though his mouth was smiling and his happiness had come back,
As re-joined with family, head held high, 
He waved his tortured existence goodbye.
Hugging his mum and his dad the same,
Somehow put an end to the incessant rain,
The natives emerged from their homes, safe and sound,
The boy crying for happiness at the new life he had found.
Soul peering at his body, dead at age eleven,
Holding family’s hands they could finally pass on and join heaven. 
The touch of their skin brought old emotion,
 Parents who were torn betwixt war and devotion,
A child whom they gave their best shot,
By train to board and bomb to not.
The grave of the boy with the electric crown,
Who carried a burden he couldn’t live down,
Stood proud in the yard of cobbles and stones,
For everyone knew those were a heroes bones,
When you look into the sky on a stormy night,
Remind yourself of the boy’s plight.
As he is the clouds that damper weather,
Out to protect his town, children altogether,
He wanted a life for them around,
That didn’t consist of being mentally wound,
A life that he could never possess,
But he did not bathe in spiralling depress.
Life is sacred, upon that hill,
Those cobbles and stones bring great goodwill,
For the sun only shines on that grassy land,
Still holding marks of the boy’s humble hand,
Some say that the yearly rain,
Is him up above, the tears of a chain.
The chain of the tears shed on that night,
Of the fear and happiness’ conventional recite,
Up above, being tucked under the covers,
Is a little boy with an injury he recovers,
Mother kisses his head and says her goodnight,
Father over bed, comforting a nightmare fright.
Drifting off, the boy could hear,
A little rhyme to calm his fear,
“Boy, come to us we love you most”
“Our love for you is bigger than the Canadian coast”
“Do not cry remember our love-“
The young man rose slowly in his bed,
Opened his eyes and smiled as he said
“I’m here”

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Ryan, Where Are You

            
Ryan, Where are You?
Hey Ryan, where are you? It’s been a while since the tragic summer of August 1992. Not even a final adieu – Not a single word of good-bye, Just leaving us high and dry. How could you just up and disappear? Like a dark shadow in a grey mist not really there. Gone to heaven or God knows where? Ryan, did you think we wouldn’t care? One day here – The next day gone; You always said that tomorrow’s not promised to anyone. Now, you’ll never get to see another glorious sunset or dawn.
They told me you were run over by a Brooklyn-bound train. Neither the police nor the coroner could adequately explain - Was death instantaneous or did you suffer any pain? Who’s to blame? An untimely death - Was it your fate you met? At birth, did the Three Fates your destiny set? Or were you just in the wrong place at the wrong time, An innocent bystander who hadn’t committed any crime? So cruel Atropos used her shears to sever the thread of your life, And the incredible pain of losing you continues to cut deep like a butcher’s knife. But, my dear brother, your treasured memory we will carry with us always, Through your children and in our hearts ‘till the end of our days!
Entered in contest "Favorite Poem You've Ever Written" sponsored by Carol Eastman (6-14-2014)

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Death, You Do Not Win

Death, You Do Not Win
 

The world has been unkind to me 
yet there's no where, no where to flee. 
I'll sit and take it if I must 
for all return to earthly dust. 

To cry will do no worldly good. 
Defy with spirit, as I should. 
A loss that cannot be replaced 
yet life must once again be faced. 

So here I sit and wonder how 
to stop the gloom which eats me now. 
Can it be slain with greater love 
or only healed by God above? 

Once, anger always worked for me 
but now, this time decides to flee. 
Yet I seek not its quick return 
true folly that my Soul shall spurn!
 

Robert J. Lindley, 10-05-2014

Note : Contest 
 Giorgio A. V. 
Contest Name Structured forms - Iambic verse III
You may select between Iambic tetrameter, pentameter, hexameter, heptameter (quatorzain), royal rhyme, blank verse and decapentasyllabic verse. Poems composed with different Iambic forms are accepted as well. Just specify the Iambic forms you have used, beneath the poem.
 
Form chosen , iambic tetrameter.
 

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

YOU NEVER DIED

O Leader!, O Saviour! , O Braveheart!
Words went so sparse, in your praise
To Thank You, paint you an emblazon.
Galvanised is the nations skeleton now
We dare to fight, we dare to grapple.
There is no hawk on prowl, no one a maim 
You kindled the fire,  darkness burned
We enjoy the blue sky with dazzling sun

You were the Candle, you were the light
You were the ark, you swept the dark.
Courage is synonymous with your name 
Voice to, dumb by the oppression
An ear to the deaf, whose ears fear.
Shadowy  wings to the brood you gave
To outbrave the deserts of despondence
We learnt to crawl seeing you ahead.

Now I don’t dare to say, you left
You left us Dear Leader, they say
I feel all papers lie, all news is fake
I see, masses weep, wailing so deep
My hands shivered holding my pen
Crying for the lone cry in the wilderness
I, let not my tears roll out of eyeballs
Better seep in heart, nourish your love.

Your never died, and you never will
You live in the living of one and all.

© 30/09/2014
Malik Yaseen

 In loving memory of my beloved Leader and religious scholar Molvi Iftikhar Hussain Ansari (Kashmir, India), who left this abode today for a divine and eternal journey.

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Requiem

Call me not a child,
Treat me with adult words,
Eyes that scan the essence,
And see the centuries I have lived.
Ancient soul though young flesh, 
Half my heart remains in an older existence. 

I wish to feel the gentle,
The tenderness that comes with love,
Finger tips soft and feather like.
I yearn to feel the rough,
The firm grip of a lover,
Hands grasping hips in a fury of need.
Lips rubbing together in absence of a kiss. 

I need to speak of higher things,
realms that others fear to not believe,
And visions that we both have seen. 
Lie with me in clover beds,
Stars sparkling bright above our heads,
Birds swooping to deliver prey to young,
Eyes filled with awe at the world's cruel beauty. 

Lie with me in open thought,
Minds roaming over hills and sea,
Connecting to the world.
Releasing raw unadulterated energy,
Through just a simple touch,
Conscious spreading to the sky,
To flit like hummingbirds.

Call me not a child, 
For the things I have seen,
The memories I hold within,
Through one life to the next.
Falling, falling, down to the sea,
Bright sky, rolling green, 
sharp waves black, crash against the rocks,
Awaiting our meeting of fatality. 

Flowers high in weeds,
Grow up to itchy gowns,
And crunch beneath slipper-ed feet.
Corsets pulled tight,
Tight enough that I forget to breathe,
When in the presence of a man.
Blame the corset for my lack of breathe,
Though he steal it from my honeyed lips,
With not even a brushing kiss.
And a wedding band surprised,
Beneath a weeping willow,
With barely family enough to witness the event.

Four wheeled Slow rolling machine,
In comparison to today's technologies,
To ride a get away in sun lit heat. 
Black with shinning seats and room for four,
Or even five if they would squeeze. 
Two women, a daughter and a son, 
A life of running, identity hidden, 
Bolstered weapons for protection,
And an unending flow of cash.
Life seemed easy - at least when not being shot at.  

So call me not a child, 
For I have seen many years,
Felt the touch of lovers hands,
The cool of friends tears,
Felt the crashing waves,
As another life came to an end,
Spoke of many things,
And made otherworldly friends. 
Kiss my lips with fierceness, 
When I have yet again died,
I fear not the otherworldly,
So tell them not to cry.

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Why the Rose Bled

Parents so proud Four sons they raised From the Highlands of Scotland In the pre-war days On their crofts they worked Morning till night Unknown to them then Of a future fight The Germans have invaded A country so free Poland was taken The world shaken visually Britain declares war As our men enlist To rid the enemy As the fighting shifts Europe's engulfed In a feverish war Many are dying To comprehend what for The four brothers Sign up to fight As a mother will pray Every night Campaigns they fight In these theatres of war Witnessing horrors Never seen before In their garden at home On the family crofts A bed of roses With petals so soft Then one day With a passing glance A pink rose dripping red In deathly stance Their mother turns To the gate she looks Telegram in hand From the postman she took With trembling hands She opens with care Upon reading the message In tear laden stare Their eldest son In Africa was lost As many many others Deaths global cost Every day As she passes the rose It's pink petals bloom Her tomorrow's fear grows .

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Another Day, Hope Returns

Another Day, Hope Returns


Another day,
sparrows still fly
death visits and we ask not why

Another night,
moon still glows
death visits, why nobody knows

Another morn,
sun still shines
death visits, clings like vines

Another fate,
shadows still flee
death visits, just not for me

Another life,
tomorrow brings
hope returns, heart now sings!

Robert J. Lindley 10-08-2014

Note: 
Blues sent a message, wake up..
I put down my empty coffee cup..
Flung the saucer out the back door..
that your worst, give me more..
Laughter slid across the lawn..
light then lit this great new dawn..

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

In Memory Of Chan Hurst-The Archaic Poet

Brother,you were a human torch in a melanchonic orbit of undefined wars Now you are a pentagram star mystical and magical Pouring light and love from a happier place from behind heaven doors Not so distant though worlds afar Through each verse and every stanza still with us you are. Like Tolkien,your middle earth was always the unknown At last,at last your soul has found its home. A sculptor of word A weaved tapestry of artistry A collage of emotions,a performer A treasure of memories Our souperstar An archaic poet,a self-professed geek A rhymer you are playing on our heart strings with a honey toned acoustic guitar Must ve'been an optical illusion I saw you getting near I 'm sure I've heard your laughter Sweet echo in my ear But I know it cannot be Through faith We face reality Our God himself descended To his word We adhere He held you a bit closer and wiped away each tear He raised you to his land with a loving hand We'll miss you dear friend But We understand Till we meet again Alive in our hearts you stand Till then,Protect Us dear Chan. .
For Cyndi's Tribute Contest and for you Chan Hurst The Archaic Poet xxx

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Time to Move On -

if she permitted
i would have curled in a ball
in a dark closet somewhere
and wept my whole life
“too many tears are too much“
“grief is a bottomless pit”....

i read a MAAD book
that lectured me on coping
with a loved one lost
of an only son
‘lean into it’ they advised
i learned not to lean

i learned my lesson
the lesson was not to lean
on anyone but myself
and my late lost wife
i knelt face down on his rug
she came and knelt over me
when we heard the news
the news of our worst nightmare
our nightmare come true
six months of eternity
so it seemed----she knelt once more:
“it’s time to move on”...

(to this day i’ve not heeded
her advice twelve years after)


Submitted for: Anthony Slausen’s 'Moving On’ contest

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Goodbye Daddy

An unseasonably warm November day
In my yard the unsuspecting kids play
Left in my loving care with words unsaid
Unaware of the tears they would shed

Future's written, words are hurled
Only eight but a girl of the world
Hair of gold, no worries, no cares
Not ready for what life would bear

Where's daddy?, He didn't say goodnight
It's not like him, it doesn't seem right
Something's wrong, I need him now
Take me to him, take me right now

My tears did fall that very night
My brother walked into the light
Taken too soon, no chance to fight
A child's nightmare, an uncles fright

Fourteen years and the tears still fall
His life was perfect, he had it all
A wife, two kids, God his right hand man
Succumbing to the fate of His master plan

My heart still bleeds for my sweet little niece
Goodbye my daddy, may you rest in peace



Details | Bereavement Poem | |

Darker than the Cavern, No Relief

Darker than the Cavern, No Relief

Darker
than the Cavern
opening gate into Hell,
the lost Souls, dead nights
with such unimaginable delights.

They seek mercy
where none can be had
an ending never found,
lost forever deep underground.

No Altar
to burn incense
a dark pit into agony lie,
caverns , dark and deep to cry.

Moans
that wail in 
pleas unfulfilled,
repentance was never willed.

Dark city
Hades in action
forever gifting torment,
upon those lost in banishment.

No sleep
just louder cries
hideous sorrowful wails
where forgiveness forever fails.

Robert J. Lindley, 09-27-2014

Note: I woke this morning from a dream of the
 underworld. David's passing was on my mind last
night and this dream shouted out a warning to me.
Too late, too late is a terrible place to be...

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

King Vlad

King Vlad is anything but Democracy’s man of the hour.
Rather, à coup sûr, he’s really Stalin’s nasty little boy
who ironically parades svoboda and glasnost’
like he really means them—actually he means them not.

King Vlad’s political traditions and pronouncements 
are well-known among those who are sadly aware
of his tapestry of treachery and deceit—oh so slovenly woven
for all to see, just like some of his fellow-gangster favorites:
Lenin, Stalin, Beria, Molotov, Brezhnev, and Andropov.

King Vlad is anything but a real world leader . . .
His kind are an open book for all to see and understand
what they are and what they mean for all who strive
for openness, decency, and real compassion in the
twenty-first century world order.

King Vlad—just like his Dracula name sake,
is a man without a soul, without a conscience,
who shall never shudder, wince or cry
at the piercing death rattle of a Kalashnikov.

King Vlad is truly no friend of Democracy, 
sounding even at times not unlike Hitler;
he’s a demon leader with innocent blood on his hands,
always quick with the old Soviet reply:
Lie . . . Deny . . . Accuse . . . Reject . . . Criticize . . . 
all tools of this redoubtable master of prevarication.

King Vlad should know that the Heavenly Souls 
of flight MH17 know the bitter truth, gor’kaya pravda, 
surrounding his lies, treachery, and deceit—all pejorative 
attributes to a man with the mask of a real monster who 
had the very best Soviet teachers.

And so Generalissimo Stalin . . . 
How do you like your nasty little boy now???
He’s right up your alley, right???

“Putin” has five letters just like “Devil.”

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany 
(August 9, 2014)

Details | Bereavement Poem | |

The Welfare Poem

The welfare poem is not for you
and not enough for anyone.
The welfare poem is very small
and not just given to everyone.

It's not enough to read for long.
It's just a little short.
It's not paid much attention to
and not the longing sort.

With thanks there's those who'll get it.
Those of who deserve it.
It's just some stolen words,
though I would soon forget it.

It's filled with much disgrace.
Those wary as they read.
It may be meant for you
if you accept the need.

I hope you have enjoyed it.
I'll cut you off for now.
But if you want more later
just beg there's more somehow.