Loss Farewell Poems

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

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Details | Rhyme |
November Chills Remind Me



As November chill creeps in
I think of June and a friend
Sun beaming so eagerly down
our spot at the edge of town

Silent moments holding me
to a time and her pitiful plea
O' that this day last forever
and my love leave me never

She saw farther than I
the thought made her cry
I thought her so wrong
right she was all along

Clime cooled and so did we
leaves fell from our tree
October faded swiftly away
Parted on a chilly November day

November chills I think of her
so gone, I know not where
Shall June ever come again
will ever I see my friend

Sun shines down upon my Soul
keeping her should have been my goal.

R.J. Lindley  09, 11, 1976 


note: Tomorrow will be two weeks and no new writes by me. 
That is other than my private writings at home.. 
Found this in a old poetry book tucked in a chest with 
divorce papers from my first wife.
Seemed fitting to present it because , well its November now.

Answer, no never saw her again. She moved away, I lost contact.
Life sent its distractions and the universe spun ever onward..

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014




Details | Marsiya |
Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epic |
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

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013




Details | Free verse |

R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee

Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |
That disturbed child
The teen girl with no friends, 
and is rejected by her loved ones
She feels broken inside,
like theres no other choice
She takes the iron razor, 
she puts it to her arm and hopes the pain will fade,
but in the end it only makes her feel worse
She does this to herself not because she is sad, 
but because she doesn't think any one cares
She thinks 
What if I put this razor to my throat,
and ended my life
Would they care then?
She feels like no one cares 
What she doesn't realize is, 
if she died a river of tears would come,
even faster then the blood would run from her
If she only knew life can be brighter 
If she would only see, 
that she is loved
That disturbed child, 
We miss her
and theres no getting her back
What could we have done
Was there any changing her mind
Only God knows

Copyright © Trevor Bain | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
Pal
Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”

Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”

One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But there, to his surprise…

Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
After the last one was planted, he sniffed it;
Then turned and licked Bob’s face.

Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”

Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.

Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed. 
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.

Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he‘d come on the double.

Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray, 
“Lord, let this day be my last.”

For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one evening,
Pal quietly passed away.

Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…my best friend…you saved my life.” 
He caressed Pal as he reminisced;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob joined his wife.

The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought fresh flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….

Stood an old dog beside the stone, 
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”

He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place. 
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then, turned and licked her face.

She smiled through her tears.  
“I had a dog when I was young...
A good one too.  His name was Pal.”

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose |
I watch the sun set
      in a distant sky.
Fading
like a bright light
      on our Poetic Horizon.
I raise a glass to you Chan
      "Farewell my friend
farewell".

Copyright © scott thirtyseven | Year Posted 2014

Details | Narrative |
My heart was in such pain
I felt like I was going to go insane
I just don't know what to do 
And my eyes full of tears that distort my view

I fell to my knees and felt the urge
My muscle tighten and pin needles struck me like a surge
My body was warm and with feelings so confused
My mind felt sadness had fused

I could not conquer my fears
I just sat down and fell into tears
When some close to you passes on
It felt like a warmth has gone

So I raised my hand towards a box that was empty with no tissue
I first was embarrass and had a little bit of issue
All my friends hugged me and said sorry for your loss
So now I cry in my bed and toss


April 14, 2013

Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
alone;
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.

Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.

Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.

-10/14/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, lost, remarkable.

Of no merit;
forgotten, under the tall trees.

And bury him;
No accurate history serves.

Under cross;
buried in sand,
buried in dirt.

His face will carry forth,
past this miserable state.

To birth,
to die;
forth not.

Behold;
of man, 
of earth.

Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, found, 
frozen in time.

Copyright © Adam Lefaivre | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Christmas, so full of life, and miracles, was found wanting this year.
A young mother sat by her daughter’s hospital bed, racked with tears.
Her daughter was sleeping way too still; her last breaths would soon come.
How could this happen to so beloved a child, she was way, too very, young.

Where was God’s wisdom, in taking a six year old, or her father as taken in war?
Church, friends, family, others, and her, had prayed till they could pray no more.
They’d ask for her: to walk in the sun, and play again, with family to hold her hand.
But her time was gone, like in an hourglass; the sand was almost, completely gone.

The mother was afraid to pray anymore… what could it accomplish any more?
What the disease hadn't taken, the cure had, nothing left, but for her soul, to soar.
But how could she hand her to the angels? Strangers had always frightened her child.
No, she sobbed, she’s way to young! Still she knew: life was never fair… or mild.

Where was God when you need him! Please don’t take her away! Her mind riled!
When suddenly, her daughter opened her eyes, and smiled her little, tired smile.
She whispered: Papa’s here… to hold my hand… He’s taking me… where I can play.
At that the fear receded… as she said she loved her… then watched her fade away.

Perhaps her prayers HAD been answered… She’d had her time with her, after all.
Now her Husband, would take her place… Perhaps it was his turn, to carry on.
Tears would still be shed… It was natural for that to happen, when this befalls.
But she knew her daughter now had everything, including The Great Father’s Love.

There are many types of Christmas magic, but as her time came to a close…
A mother’s love can’t be beat, except by God’s Love, for us all…

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
How can one express the baffling depths of obscurity? How can one behold to open the shafts of the mind? I have never been able to solve the mystery— Of myself. . . I wish at times that my life was no more That I could live as another and finally see things right But I am always stuck in this darkness And I cannot see this mind in light There are beasts. . .demons prowling through the wasteland Searching for any remaining life And if they are ever found— They are doomed and consumed Fear is their downfall and they never fail to smell it Their ashes remain, dancing with the imaginary breeze It is silent here—there are no answers I wish there were answers. . . But maybe there was never a reason No answers. . . Talons extend and clench around my heart They will never seek me out—they left me here It is like they knew…I had no reason—that was the answer I feel the pulse of my dangling life Alone in the dark, whimpering like a child I have scared myself, becoming this dragon-daggered youth No balm in Gilead! No eyes to see All I know will never be free I don’t need anyone! You are a disgrace—scum of the waste! You have everything, you ungrateful little nothing You are a joke. . . So swallow it all up like the pushover you are Stand your lowest and trudge right through No questions. No answers. Just . You. Or just lie back down into the mush of disease It has already infected you to the core Accept who you are, you ugly pestilence! I hate you Who are you to be glorified? Dream snatcher. . .murderer of all things bright Saturated in what you call light I see right through—even as the reflections shatter All of the dead kept you alive—they all matter… But alive you are the worst there is False savior—edited attention whore I never want to see your face again See, that’s why I hide. . . Desperation. . .desperation. . . I sob and cry kneeling in defeat For once I am right. . .I am right

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
I am the Blue Poet.
The uneasy man.
Who longs to be loved,
or just to have a friend.

My heart whisphers a low melody
on a faint, cool evening
thinking of her.
Once in my arms,
laying on my bed of roses.
Now she is gone.
I cannot think anymore!
It is hard, to love again,
When all your love has been taken away.
... I am the Blue Poet.

I am the Blue Poet,
That walks the bluish, dawn and dew covered streets
in the the October evenings and nights.
But I tell you, I wasn't always so blue.
No! I was once alive... happy... romantic,
... till Love went away!

Now I sit in the wayward poetry clubs,
drinking club soda and snapping my fingures
to a finished performance on a poem about love.
Written by a soft, spoken seventeen year old girl.

Soon, it is my turn to give my poem a read.
I stand on a lone stage, with a spotlight drownding me in blindness.
I face the faces, who look at me and smile.
A clap, and a cough, bring my head up.
I look out upon the sitting crowd.
To see that one face
that speaks to me,
without the movement of the mouth.
The face never showed though, and my head fell back down.

I start to read.
A vase of emotions kill me and swallow me up.
I try to hold back tears, but no more could I halter.
I finished, with a salty tear, rolling down my rough and oiled cheek.
I leave the crowd at ovation
and leave the women, all with tears in their eyes.

I come down from the stage, leaving the bright spotlight.
I shake hands, give hugs,
and collect my pay, and have another round of club soda.
Then, I go down the midnight alleyways of sprinkled city streets
finding myself a cozy room.

I think of her for a moment,
then off to sleep.
I dream of one time laughs, and hugs and kisses.
I cry in my sleep,
...For I am the Blue Poet.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
The truth 
It will destroy you
An August day
While you sweep up
rose petals 
On our Sun drenched
porch
You look at me from
under heavy lashes
And say it's ok
You don't wish to be
without me
It's ok your always
want me
Your never stop

I'll bask in this
glory
Thanking God for you
loving me
As tears prick the
back of my eyes

The hand around my
heart squeezes a
little tighter
Until I am
breathless with it

In time
There is a
difference to us
Making love is no
longer rushed
After 
I look at you,
looking down at me
But neither of us
say it's pointless
Your days a little
darker
A little longer
Things a little more
useless

The hand around my
heart squeezes a
little tighter
As the truth picks
away at your dreams
one by one

At Christmas we
pretend we are still
happy
Completely in love
While in the garden
with your sister
The truth pours out
of me in great sobs
She says it's ok
your get through
this
We both know she's
lying
Inside she's crying

I had no right in
making you love me
So the hand squeezes
a little tighter
round my heart

Somewhere along the
way
Anger rises
The tension
surprises us
You begin to resent
me
Hate me for letting
you love me

And I am sorry
I stayed a little
too long
Cared a little too
much
I needed this
whatever it was

So the hand squeezes
a little tighter
round my heart

Invisibly I collect
my possessions
Storing them
They lay in wait

Courage appears 
At three in the
morning on a Tuesday
Quietly I get my
things
Wait by the window
for a taxi
As the hand squeezes
a little tighter
round my heart

The knowledge
erupted
Watching you hold
your new Godson
Looking at me
longingly
Knowing I can never
give you this
Tears glazing your
eyes
Looking so proud
It's wrong for me to
keep you
With me this is all
your ever be
A childless man

In your hallway
You help with my
bags saying nothing
I will never be
wife, bnever be a
mother
Without you I'll
never be anything

As the cab pulls
away
You say your always
love me
I say I know
But I have to let
you go
I'm giving you a
chance of what I
can't give you
The most precious
thing
A family

So the hand
completely squeezes
my heart

Copyright © little known nothing | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
She is shadowed by fuzzy cobwebs of a morning without coffee,
while dust motes mingle with the mold of time.
Gazing out to the yard, through dingy glass, and fog, 
into a dismal January, she hopes to catch a glimpse of the paper boy.
He travels through rain, sleet or snow, how could he understand, 
(this teen-aged Paul Revere), that in this decrepit old house, 
she is longing for a sign of youth? It has been a weary night, watching an old woman hang on by threads of life, that had worn thin years ago. 
Watching and waiting, while cold winds blew and snow was falling,  
and death was hoping to make a house call.
Any diversion, life being lived,... one brief eclipse of life in motion would be a relief.
To observe him toss the news into the sky like a Frisbee... not a care in the world
How would that feel...has she ever known? Has anyone ever been so young?
She thinks she may go mad with death and dying, with weariness, with waiting.
She suddenly shivers from a dreaded draft of frigid air, slithering in,
like a sneaky, uninvited ghost, slinking in around the rim. 

       nor'easter winds                                                roll top shoe box...
      splinter the silence..               --                     debutante' caught in amber
        a cataract view                                                   frozen sepia  

Grabbing a handful of a thread-bare doily,  she polishes the cold glass, 
rubbing vigorously in circles against the grime, 
making figure eights, in spite of frozen, stiff, fingers.  
Satisfied, that she has a decent view of the blanketed yard,
and can see clearly where the muddy, gravel driveway,
bends gradually, curving to mate with the snow banked road,
at last, she spies the old Jeep coming, and watches with automated eyes, 
yet, with some expectation, and strange excitement. 
Then, as she might have guessed,
the teenager drives hurriedly by, barely slowing down, tossing the news,
and leaving her gaze and her thoughts, splattered by dark murky water, 
while the slinging gravel that has been pitched into the sky, by his screeching tires,
falls like the pieces of the old woman's lonely life upon the pristine snow. 




__________________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Mix It Up"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
"Friend,
Mind wandering through misty woods.
You don't understand your purpose.
Friend,
I knew you too little,
Please do not shed your salty emotions,
Not out of anger, not out of sadness.
Friend,
You now lose your way so easily,
You sink, you burst, you burn inwardly.
You weep from frustrations, 
From the guilt of an honest smile,
From pains, that you forget for a moment,
That come swiftly back to haunt you of your loss.
I understand, dear friend.
You once had a light and the woods seek to snuff it out.
Do not fear, dear friend,
Friend follow me, as I once did you.
Friend, now you see?
Yes, you see,
The little wisps in the fog that guide us home."

~In memory of Bill Hamman, and all else who have suffered the pains of Alzheimer's

Copyright © Lauren Johnson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |
I grieve a life that can't exist
for things that could not be
of cherished plans that upped and left
of a girl no longer me

I grieve my dreams that slumber on
that I can not wake from sleep
and as another does drift away
for it's emptiness I weep

I mourn the loss of who I was
of possibilities and more
and wave farewell to a life not had
as she walks out through the door

I sit and ache for what is not
for the girl that can't be me
of things that only might have been
for the she that can not be.

Brian Strand's contest 'A first 50 posting' (July 2011)
1st place

Copyright © Emma Mantle | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |
Mobile


You were standing alone with your mind on your phone
And you never saw me as I walked on by.
You were staring deep into your screen and you never saw me,
So I just kept on walking on by.
With your head in your Facebook, I never got a second look
And I guess I missed out on the first.
You are so deeply engrossed that you missed me the most;
You love having the best phone and that makes you the worst.


With your head in the cloud you are never around,
So how can I compliment you tonight?
With your eyes never here and always there, 
It just seems to me that you do not care;
So I wave you goodbye and walk out of your life.


Now your battery has died and the power has been cut,
You finally notice me walking on by.
You think I really do like him, but he does not even notice me,
With that woman and a ring on his hand.
You have missed out on love
And it was all just because,
You were connected to your mobile phone, not this man.
So you never had the chance to connect to romance,
Or the love that I know you could have had.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © Aa Harvey | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |
Like Shadows In My Tired Mind

Like shadows in my tired mind
you danced in wisps of cool breeze.
Your deep treasure I did find
yet you left me with such ease.
I had found thorns on your rose
holes in your dancing shoes.
Large cuts on your pretty toes
dark truth in your bad news.

Like shadows in my tired mind
you danced in wisps of cool breeze.
Your deep treasure I did find
yet you left me with such ease.

Such ease, this heart deceit shattered.
To you- had it ever mattered?

Robert J. Lindley, 10-21-2016

Sonnet form (NEW)- Lin 678, rhyme( ababcdcd,abab,ee)
Eight verse stanza, rhyme ababcdcd, repeat first four verses as middle stanza abab, closing couple(ee) must be 8 syllables each, total syllable count must be 100.
Word count to be either 87 or 88..
Optional but better if it contains (8,4,2) that is 8 verses of seven syllables each, 4 verses of 8 syllables each, and two verses of 6 syllables each, as shown in this poem.
See syllable count below..
Enjoy the challenge of writing a sonnet in this form... trust me its not an easy task..

Poem Syllable Counter Results
Syllables Per Line: 7 8 7 7 7 6 7 6 0 7 8 7 7 0 8 8
Total # Syllables: 100
Total # Lines: 16 (Including empty lines)
Words with (syllables) counted programmatically: N/A
Total # Words: 88

p.s.- AS YOU CAN SEE,  I love math...

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Monoku |


     For those I've lost but wept to keep, farewell...

     Sad One Line Contest
     Sponsored by Silent One
     10/11/2016

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

A yearling asleep 
When its mother arrived
She knew it was time
A green meadow, the best place
It was time to say farewell to her fawn
For he was a young growing buck
She wished him good luck

He would miss being 
A small spotted fawn
Who
Waits patiently for mother
While gnawing the grass
Oh, he would dearly 
Miss those wonderfully
Glorious days

Copyright © jacob Rusch | Year Posted 2008

Details | Rhyme |
Batman has died and people are depressed.
The world has to say goodbye to Adam West.
He starred as the Caped Crusader for three years.
Before he went to Heaven, he had a great career.
He became the Dark Knight over fifty years ago.
He made a success of the Batman television show.
He was a reoccurring character on Family Guy.
His fans are both sorry and sad to see him die.
He was very talented but now he's being laid to rest.
Every Batman fan should be grateful to Adam West.

(Dedicated to Adam West who died at the age of 88 on June 9, 2017.)


 

Copyright © randy johnson | Year Posted 2017

Details | Lyric |
Please don't cry over my casket 
For I am not there 
Please don't cry at my grave 
My soul has been set free 
I know it's hard not to cry 
I've been down that road one to many times 

I have no more pain 
I have no more sickness 
And I would not change a thing 
As I walk threw the gates of Heaven 
Mom Dad our brothers and sisters 
Will welcome me with open arms 
Here I am free of that pain 

Don't blame yourself 
It was my time to go home 
This is where I'm supposed to be 
Don't dwell on things which you can not change 
I will always be in your heart 

I will always be watching over you 
When that day comes for you to come home
I will be there to welcome you 
With open arms
And walk you through the gates of Heaven 
You will be greeted by our family & friends
Who came home before you 
Until that day I will be watching over you

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Put a bullet in my brain
as the rain sweeps her out of my arms
and places her into another's.
Put a bullet in my brain
for I don't want to see love slip away
please end my suffering,
for I don't want to dare see her in the arms of another man.

I fear the tear that slips away from my soul
and touches the ground with a splash
as she is washed away by the lashed memories of the rain,
please, someone put a bullet in my brain.

I can't bear to see her with another man
laying in his arms
as he charishes her beauty
just like I did to her.
As she smiles and laughs at his jokes
my heart would not bare the sorrow and pain
that would tare my heart apart into pieces of tainted love.
Please tell the rain to stop,
as the pain grows when rain comes down,
please someone end my suffering,
put a bullet in my brain
and stop the rain
that washes away every memory of her.

Stop saying you miss me
and just kiss me
for I can't take the pain
of the rain that takes you away.
Kiss me and stop saying you miss me
for those are useless words to me.
Love is where it's at, so show me.
Don't go with him, he'll treat you wrong.
Love and laugh with me till the break of dawn
as we yawn the long night away.

Kiss me and don't say you miss me.
For if you go away from me,
I couldn't bare to take a tear and waste it away.
Tears, sweet tears crying for you,
doesn't that mean anything to you?
I ask you, stop the rain,
stop the pain and put that bullet in my brain.

Let the red blood flow from my temples.
Let the plow dig my grave,
for I can't bare to see you with another
in his arms, him kissing you, where I kissed you.
I can't take it, I have to make it,
make that pain go away.
Prayer didn't help, God turned a blind eye
when I came up and said why!
Put that bullet in my dome
and when I lay in the coffin, looking at the roof of the church
you come and kiss me, and then you can really say
that you'll miss me.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Munaajaat |
I'm lost hurt and angry
Why did you take his life
I want, No I need to know
Tell me, Tell me why
I deserve to know

Haven't you done enough to him
What'd he ever do to you
He suffered his whole life
Suffered more than anyone deserved
Tell me, Tell me why you did it
I have a right to know

Why'd you let him born to them
Born to worthless parents
Parents who didn't care
They threw him away like garbage
Pawned him off on someone else
Tell me, Tell me why
Explain how you could do that

You gave him Polio
You let others treat him like disease
You took away the full use of his legs
You warped his hand and foot
Tell me, Explain to me why
I deserve to know

You let others think he was crazy
You let it go on for over year
You didn't stop it, Why
Tell me, Give me your reason
Answer me God, Help me to understand

You go and make matters worse
You gave him Cancer
You didn't give him a chance to fight back
You just jerked him away from us
Tell me, Tell me how
How you could be so cruel

How can others not question you
When others do it, It's murder
But when it's by your hand
It's your will, Their fate
Tell me, What makes you so different
Your no better than the demons knocking at the door

You heard me beg and plead
You know I'm not afraid to die
I was willing to carry it all for him
I was willing to take my Daddy's place
You didn't even let me say Goodbye
Tell me, Tell me why I couldn't take his place
Answer me God, you owe me that much



Spiritual

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |
I just wanted to let you know
That I have this love for you...
Although I'm not fast to show
For you, there's nothing I wouldn't do
And I can't control this love
No matter what I try to do...

While I know our lives are separating
Which has got me pretty blue
I just want you to know
How much I love you...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

Oh how I still see you every night in my mind
You're the best girl I feel I'll ever find
And when my eyes would fall upon your smile
My heart would be put on trial
And so if nothing else, I want to let you know
That I'll always love you, that my hearts beat
For you, won't ever slow...

Because I was blinded by shyness
And now my heart's feeling rugged
So this here's An Ode To My Beloved 

So I wish you happiness beyond compare
And sorry for the times I couldn't help but stare
Caring, passionate, smart, and loving
From my heart, to you, I'll never be shoving

You will always be in my heart
No matter where we go, how far we drift apart...

Goodbye My Love...

Copyright © Andrew Shannon | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia

Copyright © Laura Hamilton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
It seems like just the other day
Our pup, Shadrack, did pass away;
And altho’ they never seemed like friends,
My old cat, Jorg, knew Shad had met
   his untimely end.

He mourned his loss every day
And looked for Shadrack everywhere.
He’d mew and moan as if to say,
“We were friends.  I do care.”

Then one night, an eerie howl
Awoke me from my sleep.
He’d found Shad’s toys and left no doubt
That his feelings did run deep.

So our tedious search began
To find another likely pup;
But while my poor wife still grieved,
Could another measure up?

We went to Second Chance and Free to Live.
She just could not make up her mind.
She loved them all; but, if she picked just one,
The rest would have to stay behind.

Then, quite by chance, there was a “pound pup”
Who’d been picked up from the streets.
He was a mutt, a “schnauza-pug”;
But he was awfully sweet.

He jumped up and kissed her frantically.
He seemed aware of his “iffy” situation.
He made the best of his opportunity.
Tears of joy told her elation.

“This is the one”, she smiled through tears,
As she held him... oh, so tight.
“I’m sure that Jorg will like him too.
Everything will be alright”.

And so it was, until one day
When old Jorg did pass away…

There was no hesitation on this sad occasion;
Come Saturday morning, we went straight 
   to the pound,
Open minded and hoping to be “saviors”,
Surely a nice cat was to be found.

“Sadly”, the lady said,” three kitties have only today.
There’s Andre and Panda and another one too”.
My wife smiled and said, “Jorg was your boy.  You pick.
They’re both beautiful cats.  It’s up to you”.

As I pondered this commitment
Another cat, a young one, caught my eye.
Like Jorg, he was a common gray tabby.
Fond memories were stirred.  I almost cried.

On closer look, his name was Boris;
And, strangely, he was number three.
There was a small sign on his crate,
“I don’t like other cats and other cats don’t like me”.

But there was character in his eyes and he was cute.
He was rolling and purring and stretching.
He seemed to look deep into my heart
And did his best to be quite fetching.

But because he was just a common gray tabby,
And because of the little sign,
His chances were slim, his future quite dim
And one day is precious little time.

For a moment I was lost in his eyes
And I heard his desperate plea, 
“I’m a swell cat and litter box trained.
Take me.  Please, take me”.

“Well”, my wife urged, “is it Andre or Panda”?
“One of us will take the other kitty.”, two older ladies chimed.
“You can each have one ladies”, I said with a smile.
I want Boris and he wants to be mine”.

In just hours he was romping and rolling with Pepper,
Who had happily welcomed his new friend.
Boris was a perfect fit, an affirmation;
The Circle of Life never ends.

Much more Joy than Sadness in this Circle,
And there should never be regrets.
Honor their memories and all the love they share,
Never break the Circle, never be without a Pet.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
FAREWELL MY FRIEND

Within the heart of this gentle man, rocked the storm
Of the open highway, a blazing passion that burnt and
Singed at his inner soul spirit.
Spiritual kindred of the Harley idealism, born to be free,
Living with the wind beneath his wings of cycle chrome,
An eagle silhouette beneath the horizons lost venues,
Of the routes less traveled by.
Oh God bless this lost road warrior, for he tried
His best to live by the rules of honor, bravery,
And courage.
Beneath those wrinkles of age, a sparkle lit within
Those eyes that remained timeless, but only a biker
Can truly understand such passion that drove such
A gentlemen such as this friend of mine, known
Simply as Tattoo.
Oh the open highway is a harsh mistress, clashing
Hard with the review mirror of reality, betrayed by
The warmth of sorrows distrusting female, it was
All that remained left unto he whom loved her
Best, but the lure of drugs took him away,
Leaving us to wonder why?
It is said that God protects the meek and mild,
If this is true, may he stand at the right side of
The good and just. Beyond these troubling shores,
That seemed to bare down upon him so.
Let the divine winds of grace always remain
At his back, as the breezes of freedom blow
Through his graying hair, riding onto the last roads
Eternal highway on his majestic Harley, we bid
Tattoo a toast in destiny’s honor and fellowship.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Elegy |
silence when i open the door
silence when i close it again
no one to make a noisy fuss
no one to welcome me in
no one barks at the mailman
no one brings the little ball
no one chomps the squeaky toy 
but love still comes to memories call

Copyright © Luann Pfost | Year Posted 2014