Death's Precision
A sorry soul remains full
when you reek of grief and shame-
When a loved one dies,
the embers...they flame
and crimson tears fall from your eyes.
A new day became a sad day and
tomorrow is yet to be discovered-
The wrong way became the right way and from
this sorrow I shall never recover.
Intuition and fine tuning brings gestures
of the insane kind-
Restitution for ruining sincere suggestions
brings a fate too hard to find.
They try to comfort and try to ease,
but this pain of loss will never cease.
After the rubble,
and over cement pebbles I stumble,
I find a hardened chip on my shoulder-
I needed it to survive and stay alive,
though it feels like I carry a boulder.
No decision made can save me now,
death’s precision has stayed…
someway, somehow.
The last breath he took,
oh, I just could not look,
as he whispered his sincere devotion-
That chapter in my book,
just a babbling brook,
as my psyche ran out of emotion.
That hospital bed,
being hand fed,
all the clichés that come with cancer-
The way his red eyes stared,
hoping the doctors cared,
but we never found any answers.
For another day shall rise
and another night shall fall,
and through the mirror I shall see
a barren reflection-
My sweet brother has died,
and onto the Heavens I shall call,
for we had a beautiful connection.
Open Poetry Contest 2
April 9, 2017
Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2017
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