What is here?
What is now?
Suffering is
Here
Now.
Pain is
Here
Now.
Why do I have to
Be Here Now?
I want to escape.
I want to
Tear off this
Meatsuit
And be free of it.
But Ram Dass said
I have to
Sit with
The pain.
Sit with
The suffering.
And
Be
Here
Now.
a dark cloud hangs over my fragile heads
my past reflects awkwardly in a broken mirror
in the garden of love my flowers are wilted
love seeps from the gaping hole in my hearts
you removed the ground beneath my feet
making me drift aimlessly without direction
and below me, a bottomless abyss that leads nowhere
yet for long I kept my candle burning in the wind
you moved with the shadow my love had cast
leaving my light to falter without its shade
my feet sank in quicksand, escape impossible
while you stood with a wry smile, soaking my joy
but I have forgiven you for your cruel hatred
without which I might have rotted in a prison of grief
and missed the soothing balm of God’s healing needles
gradual, yet bringing warmth to my bleeding heart
He buries a small hole in the garden,
wraps her thoughtfully in a pink blanket,
tears will flow down his skin so hardened,
the crops that failed proved no gambit,
Lowers her gently, tilts her head forward,
tries to pray but his trembling words slur,
Every day-break she was with the orchids,
Carefully clipping and small hand watered.
He still has a seat for her at the dinner table,
letting go of it has been far too painful,
He keeps her room as she had last left it,
scattered drawings and her red draped jacket.
I No longer look for any contact
Your memory is fading like the past
Dreams we shared once alive
Dreams now give possibilities
Values shape our soul endlessly
Honor yourself and your family and open totally
Dancing with myself is like singing in the rain
Future I welcome with excitement
Fear is exempt
Letting go has saved me
Dreams are my right you see
A broken heart is capable of destroying
With ease the essence of being a man
Making it impossible for you to function
As it lays waste to your life's plan
Then slowly it begins to steal away
Your purpose and also your will to live
Continuing it's raid until you're depleted
In a longer have anything you can give
Your friends start to distance themselves
You believe its because you wear a frown
The truth is sinister and harder to believe
They're afraid you will pull them down
When you have nothing to call your own
In the world has labeled you as a bum
Even your family will create some space
Quietly ashamed of what you've become
A broken heart only has one desire in life
And that's to be able to hold you down
And the people you believed once cared
Ignore you and no longer come around
And then one day you realize you're alone
And nobody's there to lend you a hand
Your broken heart is trying desperately
To hold you forever under its command
Will you be able to stop from falling
To the deepest depths of this living hell
Will you be able to mend your broken heart
Or be another sad story that people will tell
I went to church with a hurting heart this morning
and what I encountered was encouragement,
love, and a balm to my sagging spirit
I am thankful for the love I was shown
You say there's nothing on earth
That im able to say or even do
To restore the love in your heart
Or fix this relationship with you
You're saying that you love me
But the opposite is being shown
You continue to push me away
And say you need to be alone
What you are showing to me
Is your heart can be cold as ice
I can't sense what you're doing
Don't offer my love as a sacrifice
Just grant me one last chance
I can be the man you're needing
There's nothing that I wouldn't do
For your love I'm here pleading
Last night I dreamed of you
I held you close against me
I knew the second I woke up
You would become a memory
Why does my mind play tricks
That sadden and deceive me
It's as though my mind is trying
To purposely lead me to misery
I wish you could come home
But that's not an option anymore
With all that's been said and done
It's impossible to even the score
I'm unaware of what's to follow
On this journey to heal my heart
I don't believe anything will dull
The pain of us living life apart
The breast of the Carolina wren sighs,
and the tinge of autumn glorifies the
silent beauty of his engraved name on
marble and granite,
a tribute to the youth bridegroom
known for the cherish of his gleaming
love he had in life.
A cascading veil of lace,
white roses,
teardrops,
a pall cast over his bride and
nuptial guests.
Hail him, with his heart that had
goodness, generosity, and joy.
The bridegroom died on his
wedding morn.
In a passage of mortal to eternal,
the sparrows dedicate sorrow in
autumnal songs to him.
His betrothed stands in the grass,
her groom, her love, in
September’s embrace,
In the mourning fields.
North Carolina bereavement is
everlasting,
in her mountains of gold and
crimson,
her Piedmont, her coast.
Such lament aflame-
unbridled in its pain.
Our paean rings of his song,
his tragic journey to join the Lord
and His angels,
as the mist shrouds envelop
his bride,
in the mourning fields. ~
We marched through flames, but felt no guilt,
For bravery itself gave us our name.
The world can stumble, the body can fall,
But truth endures beyond the graveyard wall.
We bore the loads others refused to carry,
Unspoken tears the night couldn't conceal.
Nevertheless, we sang in the tempest's midst,
Our voices soared on shattered wing.
Our title to glory is not gold or marble,
Not crowns, nor thrones we never held.
It is the love we gave away
The light we ignited in darkest day.
Death knocks, but hearts don't bow,
We welcome the shadow as a friend.
For when God calls and wants to know our name,
We'll stand upright, unbroken by shame.
Not for power, not for pride,
But for the truth we held within.
Our legacy is plain, simple—
We lived with love, not governed by fear.
So carve no statues, chisel no creed,
Our legend is in every act.
When last silence closes the flame,
Our souls will whisper: *we lived humane.*
They are not headlines,
not numbers
stacked in columns of loss.
They are children...
running with paper kites
stitched from the scraps of yesterday,
drawing suns with broken crayons
on walls that no longer stand.
Their laughter once rose
above the call to prayer,
a fragile hymn
against the roar of falling skies.
Now, quiet shows them before their time
how to carry grief in tiny palms,
how to tuck emptiness close
as though it had been cradled in their chest all along.
Yet—
in the rubble,
a doll without arms still wears a smile.
In the dust,
tiny feet trace games
on streets the world has forgotten.
Hope is stubborn.
It hides in their eyes
flickering like a candle
protected from the wind,
whispering to us
if we tune our hearts to
their quiet voice,
...that childhood
should be a garden,
not a graveyard of dreams.
Remember them.
Not as shadows of war
but as children who deserve
to wake beneath an unbroken sky.
All the tears begin to fall,
Bright and wet, they tell it all.
Clusters gather, soft and slow,
Dripping down, a gentle flow.
Eyes may sting, a blurry sight,
Feeling things with all your might.
Grief or joy, it might be why,
Heavy heart beneath the sky.
Inside feelings, deep and vast,
Just like rain, too strong to last.
Kindness offered, soft and low,
Lets the healing start to grow.
Moments pass, the storm subsides,
Newfound calm within resides.
Over and done, the wetness fades,
Peace arrives in quiet shades.
Quiet breaths begin to mend,
Released emotions reach their end.
Sorrow lessens, light appears,
Through the shedding of the tears.
Understanding starts to bloom,
Vanishing the shadowed gloom.
Washing worries, fresh and clear,
Xenodochial comfort's near.
Yearning's eased, the spirit bright,
Zenith reached, embracing light.
The sun rose that September morn, brightly dim.
The moon waned with tears in the shadow of Muhammad.
Stars scarred by footprints, heavy,
as Allah made the descent,
wings seared from the heat of hate,
hitching rides on freedom flights,
Almighty power clothed butchery of innocents.
What idol worship can move the soul to cogitate
that crumbling skyscrapers thrust so deep
would anesthetize a slumbering giant?
Awaken, arise like the billowing dust permeating blue sky,
ascending to heaven with supplication men dare pray
in places children dare not.
Dawn’s chaste early light reconciles blue-crimson white
with the Ancient of Days’ incarnate flow,
cleansing all unrighteousness,
providing hope of our salvation.
Revenge is Mine.
Justice is ours.
Godspeed.
Let’s roll.
Copyright © 2001 by Mickey Grubb
Anger and jealousy
Rage inside of me
Keeps me warm
Never good enough
Since I was born
Helplessness
Impotence
Let it burn me up
Death wears blue
Hollowed eyes
Sleepy grin
Twisted mouth
Smiled at me
As her voice
In my dreams
Between his rattle
And her breath
Silently screams
You're killing me
Specific Types of Grief Poems
Definition | What is Grief in Poetry?
Poems Related to Grief
heartache, gloom, melancholy, pain, regret, agony, sorrow, heartbreak, mourning, discomfort, sadness, despair, remorse, bereavement, misery, woe, trouble, anguish, worry, unhappiness, grievance, distress, dole, affliction, harassment