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Age Grief Poems | Age Poems About Grief

These Age Grief poems are examples of Age poems about Grief. These are the best examples of Age Grief poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Lyric |

Velvet Wings

Ignorant to passing time
Reality strikes its deafening chime
Unspoken words pass between
I and you, my darling queen

Lay your weary head to rest
With your arms across your chest
Now it's time to close your eyes
Whisper your final goodbyes

Let me go, we'll both be free
Cross the wasteland, past the sea
Find the path to heaven's light
Break away from endless night

Embracing tears of bitter pain
Falling lightly with the rain
Out of reach, I hear your song
Alone again, I sing along

Let me go, we'll both be free
Cross the wasteland, past the sea
Find the path to heaven's light
Break away from endless night

From the night. . .
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I never saw you so alive
So alive
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I'll never ever say goodbye
Never say goodbye

Life has ended, you have won
Death befriended, pain is gone
Fly away into the light
Crystal clear and shining bright
Close your eyes for final rest
Meeting among the blessed

Let me go, we'll both be free
Cross the wasteland, past the sea
Find the path to heaven's light
Break away from endless night

From the night. . .
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I never saw you so alive
So alive
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I'll never ever say goodbye
Never say goodbye

I let you go so you'll be free
Cross the path of darkened sea
I watched your velvet wings take flight
I can never say goodbye
Never say goodbye

Collaboration with Rebecca Larkin <3
A song, and lyrics

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Twilight Whispers

Quiet as twilight when i am in the mood
Breathless tree standing still in the wood
Casting shadows behind as long as i could
Night has come, knocking gently on my door

Dead calm appeals me to live for a while
Away from the dust and the madding crowd
Where the water moans, and the wind does wail
And when the light fades, in darkened shroud

Dead is the calm, it's time to behold the sky
Just in the mood, so sad, it's time to cry
Still sleeping birds, that stop to fly
Death has come, another day is passing by

The stillness of twilight takes me back to my past
When, being a child, i would run windward so fast
And leave my footprints, with a track of hazy dust
Oh! how sad i feel, if i only could mend the rust

Stillness of the twilight makes me watch the west
When, ablaze is the sky, the sun sets down to rest
Night falling slowly, stressing the pain to last
Dark shadows whisper softly, now they are cast

The stillness of twilight is a GOD send
Grasp it before it slips from your hand
Pick up your pen give it poetic twist
I take delight to write when i am feeling *triste*

Triste: French meaning = sad

Copyright © Lonely Shepherd | Year Posted 2015

Details | Salaam |

Yeh khaalipan

Jab Meri Bechaini Mit Jayegi
Jab Mere Dilko Sukoon Mil Jayega
Yeh Khaalipan Mit Jayega

Do Pal Ki Chandni Ke Liye
Aj Bhi Zinda Hoon Main
Meri Khaamoshi Ke Ageh Aasmaan Bhi Khatam Ho Jayega

Kehne Ke Liye Toh Roz Marta Hoon Main
Thoda Aur Marne Ke Liye
Yeh Deewana Kal Phir Ayega

Copyright © shadab shaikh | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

Debutant's Lament

Summertime…they say the livin’ is easy,                                                
Flowers growin’ and the sun’s sittin’ high.                                    
They say your Daddy’s rich and your Momma’s so good lookin’;               
So hush now pretty baby…there's no reason to cry. 

One of these days, you’re gonna rise up smilin’.
Take a look around and think you’ve got it all.
You’ll have your Momma’s looks, all your Daddy’s money,
And all the boys in town at your beck and call.

Summertime…Yes, the livin’ is so easy,
Laughin’, singin’, havin’ so much fun.
No time to stop and think about your future
And what life will bring when Summer’s done.

‘Cause Summertime, it don’t last forever.
Breezes cool and the leaves begin to fall;
And in your quiet moments, you'll sit and wonder
How you came so far, but have no love at all.

Summertime....They said the livin’ was easy; 
Ain’t it sad how fast the good times fly; 
And now, your Momma’s looks and all your Daddy’s money
Another sweet, warm Summer’s day they cannot buy. 

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

It's Moving Day

Early morning finds her, filling boxes with mementos. Pausing to reflect... Age has taken its toll. Memories have turned to mysteries, confusion a frequent guest. Wiping away a tear, she keeps packing. It's moving day. Uncertainty and trepidation, have taken up residence, in her heart and thoughts. Packing up and leaving behind, fragments of her life - moving only the essentials, enough to fill one room. It's moving day. Once strong and independent, now frail, in need of care. Moving in with her niece, had never been her plan. But plans change. Lives change. She doesn't want to leave her home. She doesn't want to be a burden. It's moving day. As the boxes are loaded in the truck, she takes a last look around. Speaking softly to herself, she says: "It will be nicer where I am going. After all, I'll be surrounded by family. I'll be safer. I should be happy..." Tears fall silently. It's moving day.
Kim Merryman 6/24/15 For Kelly Deschler's Women Only #2 contest.

Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic monologue |


I live where angels fear to walk
Don’t ask questions, no one’s gonna talk
Another kid’s innocence is being take
Their thirst for blood will never slacken
Love is something only found in a fairytale
But those don’t comfort, when home is spelled H E L L
Left alone for days on end
Nothing else to do but play pretend
Trying to get lost in a dream
But when that doesn’t help, all you can do is scream
I’ve called the devil by his first name
His eyes are cold, mine are the same
I live where angels fear to tread
By the time you find me, I’ll probably be dead

Copyright © Grace Faolian | Year Posted 2013

Details | Blank verse |


When you leave me, nothing will ever be the same again,
You have taught me so much and your love was never ending,
I will never forget the way you smiled and the way you made the ones around you feel safe,
This poem may not rhyme, but the words I feel for you are not in any dictionary,
therefore rhymes are impossible,
you have been my rock, my reliable, strong rock, but now my rock is floating away and soon I will never see my rock again.
I wont lie and say everything was grand,
we have never really met eye to eye,
and we have hurt each other with our words, but words would never hurt our heart if we did not feel love,
that is all I feel for you,
This is my love letter to you, my way of saying thank you,
thank you for the laughs and the cries and the ups and the downs,
this is my everlasting gratitude.
I love you.

Copyright © Jade Ma | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Speech of Tears

Speech of Tears – Zamreen Zarook

Drops of tears from our purl conveys a lot,
Each an every shedding has a ballot,
By identifying the core, our hands should allot,
Because, some might be extremely as shallot.

Chipper and blissfulness gives you cool tears,
Whereas in console and divesting flow hot tears,
Fear and pains give drains of tears,
Nothing that can be patch with dollars.

Some deliveries are automatic,
While some productions are acoustic,
Another drain says I am really bombastic,
Tears are at last solely cubistic.

They convey the emotions,
People go in search for solutions,
They become happy when they are with the precautions,
Reactions again as the tears, it’s the real abbreviation.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013

Details | Imagism |

A Farmer's Eyes and a Sailor's Shadow

A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex

Copyright © Gokul Alex | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Decrepitude Advances

"...though nothing can bring back
the time of splendor in the grass
of glory in the flower..."
---Wm. Wordsworth

"...in sickness and in health/
'til death do us part..."

Your mortal flesh decays
while mental failings mount
and I, powerless, mourn
your losses, in silent grief --
no slowing of the clock
against ravages and time's neglect --
little chance, now, to correct
the many errors of the past.
I guard your fitful sleep,
remark upon your wrinkled brow
and sparse remaining hair,
hear hesitant and labored breath,
and determine to bear
(for how much longer?)
willful, spiteful actions,
bitter barbs, prompted by
what you really, actually
know -- by what we both,
in sorrow, cannot accept,
and refuse to voice aloud.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2015

Details | Acrostic |

Who Am I

Who am I?
Question indeed!

  W-eaned from tender 
age,in noble family of ten.
  H-urt by the demise of 
the tube that brought 
me into this theater of 
struggles and pains.
  O-rdered about by the 
whimps of this 
world,facing the hurdles 
of life daily from 
cradle,never giving up 
  A-fine young man of 28 
I am,who has the 
experience and wisdom 
of the aged.
  M-astering the arts of 
life-learning from lessons 
of life's victims and 
didactic poems 'cos man 
of fame I intend to be for 
I bear the name Bob.

  I-lost my poetic gift at a 
stage but recovered it in 
poetrysoup for invisible 
entities say a 
lesser being I shall be,but 
another encourages me 
to move on,for great is 
one who comes out of 
the shackles of life 
undeterred for this is who 
I am.

Name: Ifeanyi Bob 

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Enclosed Rhyme |

just breathing

        When life takes hold of you no mercy given  
        Foreclosures popular , the new age to walk ..driven
        When your nerves are shattered 
        The home you live in seems scattered 

           Just breathe ~

       children don't understand why you can't give money on the daily 
       life feels cold and The bills are unbearable to open it seems
       When there is not enough food in the pantry for all
       you feel you are losing as you begin to fall , loose sight of dreams 

            Just breathe ~

     All these things are a test , every breath that counts.
     It's the faith,  and will to live , as anxiety mounts
     In your darkest hour just call on his power  
     with the help of God above , you will surmount.
           just breathe ~ just keep breathing

      "  Just another day in paradise Contest "

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

From Then To Now

Hand in hand we walked 
together into Reception
Nothing could stop us and 
together we were three
James and I LARP-ed Doctor 
Who for fun
We talked and laughed for 
Because no stress was in our 
Anna and I smiled and laughed
And jumped on our bouncy 
With nothing dividing us.

Side by side we walked 
together into Year 6
Some stranger stopped them to 
talk and broken we were alone
James and I talked about 
Doctor Who for fun
And we talked and kissed for 
But misunderstanding broke us 
Anna and I still smiled and 
And joked about our bouncy 
But secondary school was going 
to divide us.

With no one there I walked 
alone into Year 7
And a stranger became my 
friend and together we were 
Violet and I both loved Doctor 
And James found Dominic
So James and I talked for mere 
And school started pulling us 
Anna and I still laughed and 
Still promising to be friends 
Never letting it divide us

Suffocating and drowning I 
walked into Year 9
Hating how I was and feeling 
Katie and Chloe were so pretty
And Violet so funny and all 
were better than me
James and I hardly talked or 
saw each other
But we still made the most of 
our friendship
As we were like family, stress 
couldn’t break us apart
Anna and I laughed but I did 
not smile genuinely
Because the bouncy castle was 
long gone
And our schools were beginning 
to divide us

Dead yet breathing I stand 
right now
And I hate who am I and every 
single detail
Fights broke us up and pulled 
us apart
So I can feel Katie, Violet and 
Falling further out my reach
James moved house to a place 
And blamed me for never 
talking to him
But really it was because of my 
ex who was a girl
It was for something beyond 
my control
Anna and I were still friends; 
only by a thread
As she did not know about me
And how school broke me apart

So this is me now; I’m all alone
No longer the smiling young girl 
of reception
The only person talking to me 
is me
And the voice in side my head
You see; they all left me and 
always will
So now the only call I answer
Is that of my blades
And the darkness
That is constantly
Pulling me

Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

My Grandparents' Verandah

I see
The white painted pieces of the verandah
Scratched away by a harsh relentless wind.
It leaves behind bilged browns;

Rusted remnants 
Of chairs,
Of walls.

The cement rips,
Falling below

To blend with rocks and stones
In the barren and sterile garden.
Though the tiles plastered with grimy mud
Is enough for algae to grow.

They have decayed,
Like the flesh of the once young man 
Who gazed to the oceans in bliss.

They have decayed,
Like the skin of the once young woman
Whose lips quenched his eyes.

It has decayed,
Like remnants
Of a memory;

Trickling laughter and
Chatter churning from

A blend of emotions,

Have cascaded away,
Gone with this putrid wind;
A jagged silence
Now plaguing the walls.

As remnants
Of a past generation.

Copyright © Jewel Seuss | Year Posted 2016

Details | Epic |

I Never Knew He Didn't Love Me

I was his friend from the first time he opened his eyes 
I taught his his first words 
We took our first steps together his first and my second time around learning to walk
you see for me he was my whole world
I flip my truck three times when I was just two months pregnant with him you see
I spent seven months in bed getting him here and then another year in a wheelchair
being push by me with him in my lap cause I wouldn't let anybody take him from
I fought tooth and nail to walk so nobody could claim me unfit
I change my baby, bathed him,fed him and god bless him too and he grew
He weighted in at 30 lb. and 30" when he turn about 2 so I knew God was in the house 
This child was special he was god's child on loan from god he knew so much about the bible we took him to the lords house everywhere if it was at the fort mims reenacnmet he knew what the preacher left out but I didn't 

As he grew about 12 yrs. something happen and I don't know why but he told me mommy I don't love you anymore 
I have tried to be his friend he won't let me in
I cry at night I wish I knew what happen to us 
I know I got brain cancer and had brain surgery but I had not fully recovered
And unless thats what cause this rejection of me
I hope it isn't because he can't deal with loosing me
He is 26 yrs. old and I lost him many years ago

Copyright © Patricia Bernard | Year Posted 2014

Details | Iambic Pentameter |

Memories are immortal

We are all equal, though they say you lad
who do they think they are they're not my dad,
on battle fields we live or die the same
fight for king and country that's why we came
being just fifteen makes no difference 
able to shoot and fight only makes sense,
hungry, cold, lousy, I write a letter
to my mother, try not to upset her,
I do not record horror of warfare
or how my superiors do not care,
fix bayonets, our Sergeant yelled out loud
heard a whistle blow so followed the crowd,
those big tough men dropped down lifeless, like flies
sounds so loud though can not drown out their cries,
then shell carrying my number 7
sending me from this hell straight to heaven,
to the memorial now mother goes 
to read my name, so much sorrow she shows,
she now knows the truth warfare is awful
Don't forget memories are immortal.


Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |

A Life in Retrospect and a Life Hoped For

The years increased and agéd now—between
first birth and the burnt embers of my dotage—
I yearned and pined for a God-like machine
with which to vitalize my wrinkling image;
my youth extinguished long before Life’s hour
ran its course, I succumbed to melancholy
as I loved not nor lived with Love’s great power
within my lifetime—damned be this my folly!
Only faith in a righteous, holy Son
remains who shall rise to give me rebirth
though youth and hale are gone and I’m undone 
by man’s hypocrisy upon this Earth.
      So, beloved, extend to me not your pity,—
      for my hope lies in God's Indemnity.

Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

the dozens of hands

How beautiful she was ! 
When she is sparkling in the queue of  displaced
How sincere her sadness was !
As a poem by black and white
I am waving and call her
And scanning my hand  
After the queues break up 
In that cloudy afternoon
We are sheltering in a small restaurant
And sit side by side
With Her purple light dress
Her small body 
And her ruined spirit 
She was talking to me 
Long silence between sentence and another 
I respect it with equivalent silently 
She broken my silently every time with fabulous moan
I felt like I was in church
She was yellow
and weak 
like an old book 
I said :  
Do you born in February 17, 1979 ?
She said
Do not try to pressure on the wound 
You will need the dozens of hands !

Copyright © Dia Alshirqati | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

I Must Write This Name In Stone

Going back in time and change
all the mistakes I made is absurd and impossible;
I look at myself and feel rage...
my vain existence could have been so incredible.

Tarots readers promise us changes with an amulet, 
when their false prediction turn out to be a hoax,
we realize we have been spinning in a fast vortex...
not believing that it had caused sobs in our chest. 

All the gold in a vault cannot buy youth, some go to extremes
to get it back even briefly, then they try to reach a new altitude,
" All wishes are possible, not this one! " The skeptic believes,
" Know that beauty is hidden inside, visible in deeds of beatitude. " 

As my age shows in looks and inability, I feel very helpless
drowning in discontent and bitterness and trying to reason
 I declare," We start aging on the exact moment we are born, 
and our cry is the prophecy of doom carried out by events. "  

While I'm living, I must write this name in stone,
despite the wealth and the happiness I was denied by cruel fate;
I honored friendship, I loved everyone: why should I be so irate...
if life's simple pleasures are lived and never gone?

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative |

Our Ancestors Endured

Are Ancestors Endured

So deep in the forest, where it's always dark
Through the gnarled trees, fallen, crooked and mossy
An old, abandoned and neglected graveyard lies
The headstones are tilted, cracked, and broken
There are five stones that go from large to small
The weathered inscriptions hard to make out
Show simply a first name, month and year
William, Anna, Albert, Nellie and Rose
February, March, April, May, and July 1812
They were the forgotten ones,
I grieved for them despite not knowing who they were
My curiosity grew, until I had to know
Through long hours of research, I now knew their story
Tuberculosis took their lives, but what left me pained 
Is that the were a family of six, and the youngest child was not there
Elizabeth would have been seven years old
Left alone as her family died one by one
The hardships our ancestors endured were profound

Overgrown With Vines
September 22, 2016

Copyright © Tanis Troutman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

A Senior's Day

Usually you're all alone
When there's ringing on your phone
An early call that makes you moan
Just wish it was a dial tone
You grab the phone
Press to your ear
Hello who's there?
You calm your fear
A neighbor's voice comes on the line
You know at once
Things are not fine
What will she say?
This voice today
What gives you dread?
Is someone sick?
Is someone dead?
The news you hear will make you sad
You know it will
It's always bad
And so you hear the tragic tale
Another friend
You start to pale
The call ends soon
Someone who once enjoyed her wealth
She seemed to have the best of health
One minute she was doing great
Then death became her sudden fate
No more to say
Another call
That changed your day
The phone's back now
Back on the wall
Who'll call next
Who's next to fall?

Copyright © Gary Kraidman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |


How queer the color of viscera
squarely foreign in my breast
To be the butcher and grim and goddess
All in one
Leaves identity succinct
Or identifies succinctness
If it has been
Then so it was always before

Therein is 'Peace'
Reposed and eyes rolling
Great, vacant saucers on vertiginous axis
She is quite the swollen beast
And on all fronts, she is terrible
If only you'll watch you may notice her growth
A malignant sort
An unwelcome appendage
I'd dash it out but I've already gone
Too pale and dogged in life to succumb
I curse her tenacity

She has a sister, I think
Or maybe a child
A child who lives down deep in my chest
A child who shrieks and tears down the walls
Perhaps she dislikes their pattern

Copyright © Chelsea Westerfield | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

little pale lies

sometimes, i get a wave of sadness over me.

i love you, and i want to be with you,


you deserve someone

a little less neurotic


a little more normal.

someone who is honest when she whispers, “I’m so happy”

under the covers.

you make me happy.

but you shouldn’t have to change me like that.

Copyright © Morgan Tate | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

teens life in Oakland

*A assignment was due in class. *

Every time a gun shoots
A tree looses its roots
Every time there is bloodshed
Along with it millions of tears are shed
Every time a heart is stabbed
Someone else’s life gets barren
As violence grows
Many more mothers moan
The sounds of destruction
Overpowers the voice of those
Who are innocent
Who suffer with no reason
Who beg for life
Who have heart full of innocence

Why do so much violence?
That the child’s cry cannot be heard
When his father is killed
Why do so much violence?
That a mother moans
Over her child’s dead remains
Why do so much violence
For winning any stupid battle
Which is taking lives
Of people who have wives
And mothers and children

When you can keep calm
Talk things out
Do whatever you can
To keep violence out
Because there is no sin as big as

Copyright © donna lu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

A Blue Boy's Death Wish

A fragile mind breaks 
Wake upon the rock laden shores
A muffled heart begs to echo
Whispers lost among a velvet chamber

Dusk comes premature time and again
Dropping the curtain on an optimistic sunrise
If you never witness dawn
There is no tomorrow

Always the dreamer aches
Never awake to make real what he desires
The restless corpse walks blind
Dead ends seem fitting for one of the kind

Lost in the labyrinth of strangling vines
Love is the motive and the weapon
Taking root in throats dry from weeping
Sprouts of amnesia in place of smiles
A garden called heartbreak holds onlookers captive
The comfort takes hold, sets in the bones weary of searching
A plea for rest lands on deaf ears

The hollow boy tires of himself
The last request he will ever make
"End me"
Lost and tired
He wishes to be weak no more

Copyright © Alexander Schwartz | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |


My age shows on my wrinkled skin: ugly face, ugly hands! What a rage! 
My brief youth I mourn with regret! My grief only reflects a sad image!
My wish was to remain ever young! My handsomeness has suddenly faded! 
My agony grows with swift time, my death approaches as a mocking fiend!

Entered in Verlena S. Walker's contest,
" The Gift "
Written by Andrew Crisci on September 8, 2014

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

We'll go asleep

We know despite regrets
that under bricks of stones
beneath the sea of red
(there) the daughters and the sons
have put theirs heads
for meaning of an forsaken strophes

We know the depth
of tangled words
from toes to head
we’ll flow an our  cause
to gird  it all around the neck

And sing upon...

That our world  
on gardless sleep
is only a fragile thought
of the Atlantis cover deep

We know...
we’ll go asleep
among the falling stars
on reefs of dreams
under the heavy prism
of bended skies

When pond of dark
absorbs the light
of blinded town
and haze’d souls

There... yet 
from morn to dusk
every ardor will fall apart
by pillory of scarlet dawn

Copyright © Marcin Malek | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme |

The Poet's Tale

the poet sheds one tear
on a hundred sentences
empty papers, unwritten years
locked exits, locked entrances 
the night brings her fears 
loneliness, ugly resemblances
so the poet goes to sleep
and she dreams of scenes
scenes that never existed

You can hear her at night
Her cries they horrify 
They cut through the silence
And silent after the sunrise 
I can feel her pain
it's a torment to the sane
it's a lover to darkness
and an enemy to pureness

The poet writes her masterpiece 
The perfection of pain and grieve
The beauty of a feeling unleashed
Weeps from the deception of beliefs 
A relief comes as robbed from a thief 

The poet feels high as she writes
But the poem refuses to end
three days and nights and fright 
But relief wont come again
The poet spent a lifetime 
She found no happy endings
Sought a completed rime  
And found nothing but death in it

Copyright © Mister Opposite | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

Our Shame

                      An elderly man, so weathered and worn..
                       His body is weak , his eyesight is gone..
                    His mortgage is paid but his taxes are due..
                          How will he pay , he hasn't a clue..
                 His stomach it growls, but the cubbard is bare..
                 Did he live too long, did he not pay his share..

                     An elderly woman, has broken a bone..
                 Her husband has passed and she's all alone..
            With her Medicare cut , she just sits there in pain..
                        Feeling to be a society drain..
             It's her pain and fear, so why should they care..
             Did she live too long, did she not pay her share..

Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

Still Thirteen

a ma lingering effect from angst riddled adolescence 
written some years ago, the psycho social mental events
indelible imprint etched psyche ova this pa on a win tree day hence
though a survivor of self starvation i yam confounded 
   what drove this emotional, physical and spiritual sense
less (and socially costly) ambition to die with fur vents
see, that invariably can let me be linkedin to other gals or gents
enduring the quotidian onslaught of this immense
lee debilitating illness of the mind, where emaciation reveals abs cents
of properly healthy flesh, which grim reaper insignia 
   viz skull and cross bones readies to snatch a body to dispense.
despite forty three birthdays elapsed 
   since cataclysmic eruption rent asunder
while ironclad maiden of deathly hallows clasped
   psyche, an internal maelstrom wrenched 
   worthiness pitting mien as blunder
bulldozing with razorblades 
   former childhood wondrous glee raising suicide
quiet riotous ambition, a painfully slow 
   (self starvation) mine inexorable ride
which chronological frieze kept hog tied 
   and hide bound this one grown male
dredging haunting spectre – 
   where to be gratefully dead – within elysian dale
youngest o me two female progeny 
   segued untrammeled ten plus eight years 
on february fourth two thousand seventeen 
   triggers flashback to wretched tears
sans that insidious roiling jagged stone 
   shredding/ thwarting desire to be alive
shockwaves extant to this day - 
   no matter long since recovered from nose dive
emotional, psychological & social repercussions 
   hound me present mental state
indelible permanent scars 
   (per anxiety, panicky, quirky tics) seem never to abate
try as I might to shake free 
   from the riptide affects that drowned this boy to grow 
he experiences an especially perilous remembrance 
   of that abysmal infernal woe
when thee second punim o thine 
   two lovely offspring passed that milestone age
with nary a hint how her papa felt locked up 
   within his abysmal agonizing stage
impossible to forgive permanent harm 
   inflicted not only on self but searing pain
my late mother & octogenarian father 
   whose angst this dada insight re: did gain
from bringing forth his own progeny each a smart reed
exploring cornucopia of life experiences - 
   unlike mice elf at their ages
   which years eclipsed at break neck speed
whereby each special daughter - 
   daring to block and tackle challenges indeed
with great rolly poetry to engender. 

Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2016