Death of A Friend Poems | Examples of Death of A Friend Poetry

LIFE Youth gives us sparkle and energy, we are invincible, strong with memory. Life’s chapters open and close, some long, some brief or quick dose. The episodes get grayer as we cruise through junctions, while continuing with purpose. Life is a voyage, full of bumps, tears, laughs and memories Our world can change in the blink of an eye. Forks in...

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Soft blue wind blows cottony clouds In them I look for beloved’s face Love never dies but bodies transition Energy from one place to the unknown Never can say goodbye Cherish the memories and laughter Even when the silence is so loud...

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Upon the eve of dying she could not speak. And all her opened tear ducts Sprang awake And flooded forth from The founts of creation A new sea. Oh, yes! She cried a sea of tears Because her words Had passed the door of possibility, Because her boys Would not be there For her to comfort them, Because, perhaps A whole life Needed to be grieved. How I loved her. She could hear...

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"Memories buried in the wavering wash of time." I write you now with trembling hand, The ink runs like the river sand, Where once we laughed, side by side— Now silence stands where you had died. Your dog tags hang from rusted steel, A ghost’s reminder I still feel. Your voice just echoes in my chest, A joke, a shout, your final rest. We...

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hairline chasm threads cobweb white through obsidian— wrapped around carved names once warm on living tongues. those who lived visit with heads down, pretending it’s superstition— not guilt. not memory. not fear of love ending abruptly in a plot...

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So many friends came to say goodbye Remember the good times, not going to cry You were such a part of everyone you knew A special someone for everything that makes up you Hard to accept that you are no longer here Keep waiting for the moment when you reappear It really hit me, hearing the songs you wrote Nobody else could...

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. every dusty summer stair i smell thuh redolence uv her...

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a fragrant red rose, dulcet and perfumed soft with sun kissed petals, rich and dripping sweetness gently I carry her to you my precious and treasured one while melodious birds sing songs in low tweets and chirps and rose is wilting in my hand as she hangs her head dying as I weep and lay her on the garden grave...

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When someone first dies and leaves us, It’s hard to lift that sense of gloom, When their body is no longer with us, But their presence still fills the room. But within our treasured memories, We can recollect their smiling face, For in our heart-of-hearts we know, They are now in a much better place. ...

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Oh, what pale imitation now is this? My train of empty carriages which held A score of lovers, harem of my flesh, Now emptied of those who within me dwelled. These rails since lain to waste, just fractured tracks In rows like tombstones, each besides its mate A massacre of fellows, myself cracked, My new friend, false as shadows, in...

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In the beginning, it was a wildfire. The first humans to witness fire on Earth could not bear just to watch. There was no word for fire yet. It illuminated the night and roasted the flesh of beasts. When I began writing poetry, books were burning. Lightning struck, and flames spread. As I watched, I felt the urge to kindle fire myself. There was no word for poetry yet. I could walk outside at...

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I have to come clean as I return to see your ashen corpse and dried leaves My survival became more important than yours but now I feel badly. Humans choose to love their own selves More than anyone they choose to love Don’t believe what they say in their poems I loved you because you would tempt...

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Daylight shouts like madman lurking on the roof And I could hear the early morning train from a distance speeding like bullets down the track disturbing the village people with its thundering horn And the sprinklers lying flat on the garden lawn soaked the earth just before the break of dawn and the people could breathe fresh air. They set out...

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I’ve been transmitting on the frequency we talked about— the one braided with microwaves and half-truths about entangled minds and sympathetic resonance. I figured you’d catch the pulse once the white noise parted, once my kettle screamed or the dog stared too long at a corner that wasn’t empty. My mouth even watered with your name on the dough's first rise— I dallied in the kitchen with a low-stakes...

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This sentinel, with roots that grip the soil, A continuum witness of seasons' endless toil. Through storms and sun, a beacon in the breeze, once a life of strength, among the ancient trees. But time, marches, and its sharp axe will fall, gently splitting, as life begins to stall. The leaves, once vibrant, start to turn to gold, a final chapter of...

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