Details |
Free verse
|
I write this piece for no one to see,
For iam to coward to admit what I feel
Pain, a heartache so deep it leaves me craving for something I told myself to never crave for again,
Iam back to square one, only this time I don’t mind it,
Acceptance is key they said, well it’s harder done than said,
I told myself, one last man, one last love,
And if it doesn’t work out, then move on to no other guy,
Embrace the pain and be one,
One problem though, this pain hits different,
It’s pathetic really, looking at me in the mirror and whispering to myself “ pretty hurts doesn’t it”
I have no energy left in me,
I have been stripped off my heart, left open to be stepped on like a stray dog,
It does hurt, a little bit more than it was supposed to,
But it’s a lesson learnt, those sweet words are savage,
Summary, he got what he wanted of me, it hurts doesn’t it,
Being used like toilet paper, but in all honesty I expected it,
It’s a history iam well educated in, its a love affair iam too familiar with since inception,
It’s time to stay in my lane I guess,
Pluck out those emotions, roll a funeral for them, and bury them deep and far it will be too hard to reach them in case someone else comes my way,
Actually make it too lazy to reach them,
Iam tired of wishful hoping that love will finally come my way,
I need to understand that iam just a phase, nothing permanent,
Iam the girl that comes to love you,
Though iam guessing it’s never enough love,
Because they still walk out the door,
I need to know my place,
And understand you can’t have it all,
A pretty girl is all you will ever be to a man,
Rest assured that’s his only desire??
|
Details |
Epitaph
|
How hard could it be on a beautiful Saturday?
Brian calls us, “Hurry up. They are taking Dad to the hospital.”
Brian meets me at the door, ”Dad didn't make it.”
I scream, “Oh my God.” I crumple into a ball just outside the hospital door.
I yell, “Why, my God, why, my Dad?” I turned purple (that's what Brian said.)
I compose myself; I get up and we walk into that little room.
How hard could it be to say goodbye to my heart?
He's lying there, a tube sticking out of his mouth.
I touch him, still warm, I say, “I'll miss you.”
They leave, I turn back, I touch him, still warm, I say,
“I love you a million.” I walk out, tough as nails, quaking on the inside.
In my head I hear, “You can do it Den.” I feel a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
How hard can it be to bury my Dad?
Sunday, we all meet at mom's, we talk, we hug, we cry.
Monday, we all meet at mom's; we talk, we hug, we cry.
Tuesday, the wakes, double dread. I stand there, tough as nails, quaking on the
inside. “You can do it,” he says to me.
Wednesday, the funeral, all the flowers, over 280 people saying goodbye to my
Dad. I hear him still, “You can do it.”
Thursday, I sit here writing this poem, tears run down my face. “You can do it,”
he is saying to me.
Friday, we will bury my Dad's ashes; a copy of this will be put in that little
wooden house-shaped box. We will cry; I know it. His spirit will surround us
with his love. He'll give us all hugs and kisses all around.
How hard can it be to go on?
“My God, Jesus, please help me.”
I hear Jesus saying, “Trust in me and your burdens will be lifted.”
“Dad, why did you leave us so soon?”
I hear Dad saying,” It was my time and I was ready to go home. Don't cry for me.
Celebrate my life and have a party. I will always be sitting next to you, Den. You
can do it.” Hugs and kisses all around.
Thank you, Jesus, my heavenly father. I trust in you and praise your name.
And thank you Dad for your unconditional love,unselfish support and your
heartfelt hugs and kisses. I`ll be okay. See you soon. I love you.
|