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Long Eulogy Poems

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See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Laura Loo | Details

Lament Of My Life

Lament of My Life Contest Sponsor: Casarah Nance ~My Bereaving Eulogy~ Time seemed to pass so much faster than I expected, All the love, loss, passion and things I have neglected. How many times have I lost a special loved one? Well, now I am the loss, I'm so delicate and young. Thirty five years of the clock ticking towards my end, I hardly had any time to catch up and make amends. I was born into a family full of love so passionate, strong mother and father, siblings so affectionate. At times as a sweet little girl I was scared to look in my mirror, too scared to see disappointment in conjunction with my fear. Times of broken hearts and left alone, never to feel peace fully, friends left and at times was attacked by bullies. Most of the time I was full of daisies and sweet honey, I was content and silly, joyful and pretty funny. I was raised with love, beauty and constant protection, with my mom I have always had a deep inner connection. Bonded by blood was I, with my brother and two sisters, siblings so potent, conflict and resentment was never considered. Wedding bells rang and the honeymoon came and left, many years I lived with a curse of feeling anxious and depressed. But my husband, sweet Nicholas, saved me from my damnation, so in love with his wife, who felt I didn't deserve condemnation. Then there she was my soul saving wonder, a petite seven pounds, my ravishing sweetheart, a wrinkly face with big doe eyes so brown. In my twenties is when I almost died from my addiction, I was defeated and abruptly damaged with out jurisdiction. Death should've been seeping right through the walls of my soul, My body took a tole, out of control, and yearned to become whole. I have the Lord to thank for my bravery and recuperation, I'll never know why He chose to save me from elimination. The older I grew the more wisdom I seemed to gain, I threw out all the jealousy, regret and constant blame. Back on December thirty-first of two thousand and ten, my big sister died tragically and I lost my best friend. The horror of our last goodbye still haunts me every night, why would she take her life and give up up on her fight? My inner essence was shattered and my joy found regret, I never gave my soul a chance to heal, time to reflect. But the next five years was full of soul-savoring moments, I had an opportunity for growth, sapience and atonement. When I died, the loss of me, destroyed everyone I knew, funny how I hadn't realized how much their love for me grew.... I was chosen to be born into a warm family. Devoted mother and father with more than enough love and peaceful joy to go around. But my personal deprivation caused my fork in the road to veer off and create my own twisted global destiny. What was my destiny anyways? My destiny was to nurture my loved ones and keep my heart safe from the damage of what could've become my daily struggle. I was born to be a daughter, sister wife and mother.... When did I get so lost in the madness of separating good from regret, and distinguishing my happiness and my lower class confidence? None of that matters anymore...what is important is the legacy I left behind is in my daughters eyes and in her smile. She will always carry my sensitive nature in her tiny ten year old soul. My husband loved me so much more than I can have ever imagined. I know this for a fact. How do I know? Well, being with someone for twenty years is enough proof. Regardless of consequences and in spite of wrong doings, I always needed more. “More what?”, I wondered. I longed for the satisfaction in my core that only me and me alone could provide. My sorrow from losses beyond my control has flipped upside down and now I am the loss for others. Their sorrow is unbearable. I can barely shine down upon them because my empathy knows what it's like to lose such an important person in my life. Now more than ever, I realize my importance in the world. I was born to love freely, and I died being loved and needed... loss can break our hearts life was my constant blessing grieve, but see me smile be sad, not for long empathy can shine beyond death can be a gift ~Date Written: March 8, 2016~

Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Olufemi Oloye | Details



I've witnessed seasons
Year in year out
I've seen faces dark and fair
I've met pple strangers and known
Many of a kind, humble and arrogant
I've met, meeting and still gonna meet

Not all the thick clouds is for rain
Not all the bright skies bring sunshine
Not all the springs give fountains
Not even all the smiling faces give you joy

I'm lucky to see a face that gave me joy
A face that gave me reason to smile
A name that sticks to my mouth and lines my heart
Not just a face, but a beautiful one at that

We may be new in days
Even strangers in a far land
But we found our roots
And chose to stick tugeda
We chose to be tugeda
And tugeda we remain

Our moments tugeda had bn rosier 
Moments we can describe as a dash to the moon
Moments memorable like a dinner in the air
Moments of smiles and laughters
Moments we feel like babies and pets in each other's hands
These are moments second to none in our histories. 
They live and shall live in it till eternity. 

Moment has come again Moment of test and and trials
Moments we stretch our hands and no one to hold
Times we lay and no head to place on my chest
Times no finger to cuddle my nipples nor the tongue to make me feel awe and Waohhhhhh

Moments I wish you whisper into my ears for me to feel that sensational feels down my nerves
Moments I wanna be overwhelmed by your presence
Moments I wanna be drenched with your kisses
Moments to stick you your blossom like my life depends on it

These are the moments I dread and scared of
These are the moments I wish could pass over
Moments I wish I could speak and make it pass
Moments when silence ll send tears down my cheek and leave me speechless

Leave me not without breath
Leave me not with the unrest
Leave me not when I need you
Lemme not scream too loud before you hear my voice
Speak to me in that language I understand
Scold me not to bring me down
Correct me in love and affection
Make me feel loved and needed
Make my mind reach you each time I search for you

My heart goes with you
Likewise it delights in you as u depart
Such as delighted as I was when you gave me your heart
Shade me, never shame me
Rate me, never hate me
Live with me, never leave me
With u I wanna spend a life time
For in you I've seen all I like

I stay by the window
With the curtain hanging in my hands
I peep thru the long lonely street
I gaze into the air like I could send it on errand
Wish the breeze could tell me where you are
I wish it could tell you how I miss you
Could it tell you how I long to see your lovely face again
I wish my wishes are lyrics
I'll sing it in foreign tongues
And write it in many languages

Wish I could lure the birds to back me up
The breeze to help modulate
Would my voice be sonorous
Or would it be electrifying
Would it make sense to you
Would you smile for me
Would it make you cry
Would the tears roll for me
Would it would it would it....

Till we see in warm hug
Till I lift you in the air
Looking into ur eyes in the air with a warm and affectionate smile
I wait for the day like the camel waiting upon the the arrival of the rivers
Line the dry grasses longing after the coming of the rain

The grassland ll be green again
The cloud ll be clear to see
The river clean to drink
The sunshine ll light our world again
And the kids ll jump for joy
This is the day on my mind
The day of your return

Till then, I'll miss a life we lived
Love you till beyond now


Copyright © Olufemi Oloye | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Herbert Siao | Details


It was like a whisper- 
My wife delivered the sad news- 
"Your grandfather was dead."- 
And so he was- 
Her eyes was awfully sad- 
Touched me gently on my back- 
He was old- 
The time I started to noticed him around- 
He was a relic- 
He talked about the war- 
The warring in the land- 
Dispute over religion- 
The greatness of the past Presidency- 
How Marcos summary killed young idealist- 
How my uncle survived the bullet- 
And wrote a letter to Imelda to help him- 
The hospital bill in exchange of his ideology-
How he comes on this land- 
Answered the migration call-
In the Southern Philippine-
He was young- 
He loves democracy-
He went to street and joined the protesters-
To end up injustices- 
He tilted the land- 
Grow coffee and Avocado- 
He sniffed the salty wind of the Celebes sea- 
As he stood at the cliff of Matutum- 
Sometimes they sale fruits in the public market- 
Those years of the early 60's- 
While my mother was just a kid- 
Then we came- 
My cousins and us- 
We sat at the table- 
Trembling in the dark of dawn- 
That was during our summer escapade-
While grandma prepared for us a hot milk- 
Then he walked near beside- 
Staring on us- 
Preached the narrative of his life- 
As I perceived- 
He was a learned man- 
Our pillar collapsed-
My knees gave up- 
I sat on a bench- 
My body drenched by my cold sweat-
My eyes drawn beyond the wall- 
Like I search things on the mirror-
Tears lined on my eye-
An innocent face- 
Stared back from the reflection of the clear pond- 
"Eat it..eat it..eat it..",my older cousin whimpered-
We wore straw hat- 
And a checkered polo-
And the place was cold- 
That morning, we went into a brook-
We forgot time went by-
It was already two in the afternoon-
"Let's go home!", I don't recall who said that-
We walked briskly- 
Hold a big salmon on our hand- 
We were afraid- 
The sky was slowly given up from the dark- 
The rain started to pour- 
Then we saw him-
He was there signaling us to halt- 
Tending his carabao- 
At six- 
We gathered on the sofa- 
Only the flickers of the light glows- 
He sat on the dark corner- 
Listened the radio transistor gibbers- 
The mountain loomed in silence- 
The radio announcer talked about the cold front- 
The wind outside whistled-
At school he asked on us sometimes- 
How things going on-
He bragged about it- 
To his neighbors-
On his house at Tieza- 
There was this book rack- 
I sat there often-
Read carefully-
Those stories about the Greeks- 
The Filipino contemporary authors- 
Because of that I love to stay in the library- 
Hand gripped the yellow mongol pencil- 
Scribbling some words on crumpled papers- 
And hid it somewhere-
At college he went to our house at Silway- 
He watched the television- 
I read silently the Doveglion- 
Near beside him- 
He was weak and knew his end was coming- 
I touched his head always- 
He breath weakly and coughed-
How I love my old man- 
My son likes to play beside him- 
He was on his death bed-
Then my wife- 
Was standing right in front on the workplace- 
She looked at me on the eye- 
And I knew the smile of there is something-
Isn't right-
I knew he was gone-

Copyright © Herbert Siao | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Bambi Graf-Burnham | Details

My mothers eulogy


All I wanted was the first ever out of your mouth IM SORRY before the devil collected your soul.
But take it with you... What else is new?
You lived your entire life lying, pretending, pimping, sucking souls with an innocent smile and thick sugar coating.
SIXTEEN YEARS IN TOTAL of psychotherapy and I didn't even dent the cycle! That astounds me.
Without doubt, all those who love and follow you, have millions of 2+2's without me breaking the silence; yet say 4 is me being crazy.
The last falling out between us was because I refused to help con 40,000.00 from my oldest sons girlfriend... But somehow all of these people and family around you can't see it.
Otherwise smart, educated, successful, and productive citizens...
Sixteen years of doctorate counseling... IM THE CRAZY ONE! 
Sixteen years that you proclaim I'm crazy -
I do not understand this.
Dysfunction running so profoundly deep that your followers deny 4. Not one of them have ever called or met my counselors either.
But lie and slander lifelong.
Your journeyman Dawn who points at me, graduated as a RN but was denied her nursing degree when they found her two felony pimp convictions.
But I'm some dope whore.
I was first in family to get a college degree with a 4.0 gpa. But that's not talked about...
Carol, you sold both of your daughters out to prostitution and profited off that for most of your adult life.
No thank you either. You told people you come from money but lowered yourself marrying Dave out of love.
And he helped you pimp and profit!
Judgement day is upon you and you can't fake out God. But if you're soulless, maybe you skip judgement and know your place.
In these last years, you've taught me hate.
What legacies!
And I had intense counseling to reassure myself that looking forward to the end and feeling relieved were not the sickness they feel like. And my anger at your selfishness choosing to die in your lie like it is dignity. I could not do that. But I did not sell my children or profit off them either.
Oh well, more wasting of pleas for your love, any apology for having no love for me, lifelong invalidation and abuse to your death.
Devil be gone!
For two years I told you what Cody was doing, you blew me off but pulled him close and, again, PROFITTED from selling out a child. Your 20 year old grandson serving ten years federal prison time should be YOU IN THERE!
That's when my hatred for you solidified and I feared for every single child near you.
Watching you teach 3 year old RAMYAH, who is your very dark skinned mixed ethnicity great grand daughter, to use the word NIGGER. Just last summer...
Yes, I look forward to the end of you with great relief!
What a mess you are and leave behind.
You belong in hell.
I'm sorry.
Good bye Carol.
You were no mother to me. You are my enemy and worse nightmare.
I didn't dent the cycle. But I'm not living a lie, keeping your dirty secrets, and my soul is intact.
Sorry for you.
So it is I who tells you that I am sorry.
Hope that's all you wanted too.
Your oldest daughter Bambi.

Copyright © Bambi Graf-Burnham | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Anson Decker | Details

The Eulogizer

He’s called the Eulogizer
He reluctantly accepts this moniker as our elder
A name for which he feels disdain 
Since it conjures memories of unspeakable pain
He's lost a father, mother, sister and son
His nights sleepless realizing his duty is not yet done

I sit among those assembled, feeling anxious
I know his words will bring a measure of solace

His face stone, voice strong, steady
Fighting his emotion
Carefully crafted memories are his calming potion

As anyone, he’s averse to this task
How long will he fool us with his mask

Conveying the spirit of those lost, their idiosyncratic ways
He's reluctant yet seemingly could speak for days

Rigid at the podium stands his six foot four frame
After this day he will never be the same

Face stricken white, eyes without color, eyebrows raised as if asking why
Pushing on, he must try

Unaccompanied by notes or written speech
Each of us welcoming, wanting, needing his outreach

As he speaks, his grieving words encircle us from above
Settling to impart a healing salve of love

He speaks eloquently of his many memories
Figuratively, bringing us to our knees
Hopes and dreams of those gone, now only casualties

Many sit trembling, sorrow decomposes their composure
He executes his chore
Foolishly hoping there will be no more
He doesn’t question or complain
His love precludes feelings of disdain

He is eloquent
His plain spoken manner brilliant
Evoking warm memories of those lost, so elegant

Now standing before his mothers grave
A ceremony for the soul he hopes to save

Engulfed by dead winter cemetery silence 
Ghosts of father, mother, son and sister stand in reverence

The sergeant at arms, face cast in steel
A strong soldier, we wonder if he can feel

His stout frame encased in military blue
Highlighted by medals and awards casting an ominous hue

Flanked by motionless men of lesser rank
For their presence our country we thank

A half step forward
He leans in toward
To the Eulogizer the sergeant utters in hushed tone
As if family and friends have left them standing alone

The folded flag resting between white gloved hands
The Eulogizer firmly stands

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the Commandant of the Navy, and a grateful nation please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s service to Country and the US Navy."

Then a moment forever frozen in time and memory
For those standing close enough to see
The steely soldier contains himself no longer
A tear upon his cheek swells, becoming stronger

More invisible souls gather upon the hallowed ground
The millions lost since the first musket cracked with sound

The lone bugler standing under a mighty oak
Red, white and blue his eyes, gloves and uniform
He Taps, long sorrowful notes inciting emotional storm

The sergeant holds a long salute, and when it’s done
We disperse, each pondering a private question

The Eulogizer’s words deliver comfort and peace
Enabling a mourners pain to cease

There’s no need to live in fear
While waiting until you again will hear 
From the Eulogizer

Copyright © Anson Decker | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Tiana Tillman | Details

Celebration of life for Dalo

If I only had a few more minutes before you passed away
I'd tell you all the things I didn't get to say
I'd sit down with you and reminisce about our cape cod days
Go over one more time the particular day you walked my way
When you asked me, "can I meet your friend", and you and taryn danced the night away. It was no doubt, meant to be and your family instantly grew to three, taryn was your rock and Jordyn was your number one girl. Within a year you got the news you family would grow to four. I remember when you called me after receiving the news, you kept asking me if it was true. I told u yes cuz taryn wouldn't play a joke like that on you. You were going to be an exceptional father as you already had proven to be. As expected, You embraced the role and a new glow came over you that I had never seen before. The love the joy that shun through your eyes as your family became a family of five. a memory that will never fade in our minds. You worked day and night to provide your family with anything they did need.
I was amazed to see how much you changed throughout the years right in front of me. Your sacrifice, your drive. It was much too early to say goodbye. To a man who's smile alone warmed our heart, a man with so much love of life. From Haiti to Oregon, You played such a prominent role in everyones lives. Your spirit and values will carry on, especially through your daughters eyes.
I'll miss our talks, I'll miss the laughter, I'll miss your relationship advice
I'll miss you telling me to be happy and just enjoy life
I will cherish every word you ever said, even the ones I didn't understand
I will make sure the girls realize you are right there still holding their hands
Looking over them protecting them the best that you can
I will continue to bring my friend back to the joyous state I know you would want her to be. You'd tell her to keep your head up taryn, my love cuz I live inside of you too.
To wipe our tears and go on with our days.
Live life to the fullest and don't question gods way
If I had just a few more moments with you, there's so much more I would say
I'd thank you for the beautiful Angels you brought this way
I'd thank you for showing my friend the definition of true love
God blessed her with your presence in her life
Because You were truly heaven sent from above
For me the words unspoken never really needed to be said
More than just a friend you were like no other
You will always hold a place in my heart, because u you were my brother
Your love will never be forgotten
The fun we shared, The laughter, the cries
We know the hurt will ease in time
The joy you brought, with all of your love and affection
You will always be so much apart
Apart of your soul mate taryn, Your daughters Jordyn, taelyn and Jaxyn
Although we miss you, we are comforted your presence will never leave their side
So from this day forward, my brother, Dalo, WE CELEBRATE YOUR LIFE

Copyright © Tiana Tillman | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Prince Patterson | Details

Who or What are these People

 Who or What are these People?

There across the sea is something on top of the steeple?
It looks like people? But with a different neck? Should I pet or let my bird peck at it? I cannot tell what it is. But from what I can see upon is that there are numbers of them maybe, there are even different kinds of them. 
I wonder will I find one who speaks my tongue?
From the looks around of it. I see that everybody is either similar or different from the head and on down. I see angry people, I see careful people, smart people, even dumb people. But the most of rare things I have never seen was an extreme person with the never to act like a black sheep bull! 

This boat is heavy lets pull it to shore. 
Before they awake and then we would have to catch them before they learn how to explore.

Let's give them a break, away from civil war and general warlords.
Iran and Iraq wars,
Post-Bush words of how great it is to take somebody oil.
Let's ignore the world.

They turn their backs on it before the chance to speak would be no more than a beep. But when they do, all you can hear is the words coming straight from the Louisiana birds.

Lets take a much closer look at these people...

They have a cool walk,
They talk smooth,
They can do what another person do and make it cool.

These People don't wanna be used.
These People don't wanna be the ones who are still being abused.
These people are close to blowing their fuse!

What would the world do if these people was to ever get loose and learn the means of what it means to be misused and abused?

As a person made from other people who are made from a genius who sits above a steeple.

I am only looking across this gate
This wooden gate.
To see about reasoning with these people to make them see that we don't need no more evil, but to my belief in people with big egos. I would have mistaken these people as creatures unlike me and you. And that should have been put down eons ago. Because now I am looking down from this tower and I see that these people would not have survived. If somebody didn't pull out a gun and killed a revelation type of guy.

The world would always be a genocide, but it don't always have to be. If these people look ahead into the future and stopped memorizing on the past. They would stop having false gas or getting a plastic ass.

But when I look over this African wooden gate that's placed on the warm African sand. 
I cannot help but to wonder will I ever meet these people in the near distance future. 
And they have an amazing story to tell after they put a ban on the people being in jail and shut down all the wholesale. Of whore sales and prevail through the black veil of hades and his underground version of hell.

- Who or What are these people.

Copyright © Prince Patterson | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Keith Trestrail | Details

Ballad of Joyce Hill

  To her family she was coy
  but truly she would be their Joy,
  a country girl from Kingaroy -
                     the fourth of eleven.
  Over hill and range she would tramp
  living in tents from camp to camp
  by the glow of a railway lamp
               and the stars in heaven!

  Along the way past Many Peaks
  swam in Splinter and Monal Creeks
  where a child a gay frolic seeks
                   in the heat of the day.
  Up on the range where it outlooks
  when not tending the campsite chooks
  she read in school her beloved books
                   dreaming of far away!

  As an older girl on horseback
  she'd ride for miles a dusty track
  like a drover with a knapsack
            where the long trail begins.
  Up "dash it" early milking cows,
  picking cotton and feeding sows
  and shooting possums in their boughs
               to sell their bounty skins!

 "O someday I'll teach school" she said
  till she met Arthur Hill and wed
  and bore life to her eldest, Ted -
               the first of eight to come.
  In Mt Morgan where miners drilled
  as rains came and Trotters Creek filled
  a new life on the land she'd build
                 and be a wife and mum!

  But on their farm and dairy run
 "hells bells" there was work to be done
  from sunup to the setting sun
            and all must do their share.
  Through the Great Depression and war
  a boundless faith to God she swore
  and it burned in her evermore
                      in His heavenly care!

  Her hands had many mouths to feed
  and so when hungry kids did plead
  she baked the bread dough that she knead
               in the old woodfired stove.
  And with her weary frame so sprite
  late as the curlews cried at night
  she read her bible with delight
                        as it did her behove!

  In her time a digger of wells
  when the winds blew in dry hot spells
  and echoed the sound of train bells
                  up and down the railway.
  A grazier, tiller, and sower,
  a painter, milker, and grower,
  a doer, thinker, and knower,
                         and a potter of clay!

  To all her far flung family
  a great-great-grandmother was she,
  and like a grandmother to me
                 whom I most gladly knew.
  So now when I hear the tick tock
  and chimes of the pendulum clock
  or "tommyrot" and "poppycock"
                        I'm reminded of you!

                August 2016

Joyce or "Joy" was my wife's grandmother.
A remarkable woman who I got to know well.
Despite what it says in the funeral notice 
she was in fact a great-great-grandmother.

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Mohamed Manzur Bah | Details


With wind in the air, girl in the honeymoon, technology shape our thinking, I cannot sleep without having to think about you Why I look so sad tell me the white lines that you see crimson like wings on my face. Boy in the hunt, lady in the sky, below falling, in the happiness from glory, I cannot deny you that I was your servant until I see mistakes in your behavior.
Father is worry, but son isn’t looking from that direction. I saw group of people sitting around a table sharing ideas. .In the moon I see birds eulogizing my name to the angels. In the air I see smile, in the bed I see couples sharing love. I cannot wait to explain the wonders to wanderlust.
I was blind until I find Allah is on my side to Saturn. I cannot wait to worship you, because I love to be happy all the time to happenstance. Stop fighting your enemies to element, but build fence to run from farce to fashion. The night descends decision, but I do not know whether I am going to see you tomorrow on stipulated time. Please wait, stand by me defend me strengthen me to salvation.
Appoint good people around me to the arrival of Jesus to defend the truth to the trillions of misery. Make them run to me make me smile and clap with joy to the climax. Ask me why my face sad today not person to fight against my will to the wilderness. Girls stop running to relationships ask what you want and get what you need for the future. If the present has nothing to offers you keep on praying with tears running down your chic to the vineyards.
Stop running to people sometimes stay and wait as the duty of waitress open you wings to receive them with flowers purples. Do not be adversary for you; you do not know tomorrow what will it brings you. Smile with your friends, do not let them cry nor let them run from the rumble of your voice. You are the leader of my progeny tomorrow to titanic tag.
Whisper that you love me to lubricate my feeling adjacent to philanders freaky to fragile unanimous. You never wanted to see me cry to discrepancy under trees, and cold night that tore my skin to skipping rope. The clock ticking, tick tack, tick tack, I cannot sleep under slippers, because too much of noise from the clock reminding me about you.
I cannot stop loving you to the idiomatic expressions as glides of gold glittering. Queens were born to rule the world and Kings were born to defend their kingdoms, Emperors were born to defend their Empires, but at the end they ended with the swords. He loves Jesus as Jesus you stand by the cage to defeat the deadline under the salvation near the salad leaf. Stop worship Jesus isn’t creator from among cradle of creatures but the bearer of the truth.

Copyright © Mohamed Manzur Bah | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Maz Zie | Details

The patient

When I think of the times in therapy that I spent with Lenny, they weren't that of a therapist to a patient.  They were more of daughter to father or daughter to grandfather. Like every teacher has their favorite student, he was one of my favorites of all time.  This man had a sense of humor that could turn any piece of hard advice into a joke or any situation to a smile.  
"Why didn't you just fix your watch instead of buying a new one? that's the problem with your generation today!"  He'd say when I walked in.
"Did you call the foot doctor like I asked you to get those special made shoes so your feet don't hurt? No! you didn't listen!"  He'd retort.
Some coworkers saw Lenny as short and mean tempered, but I saw his light, humorous side and pictured him more as a tough-love family member.
I noted a picture of his grandson and granddaughter sat by his bed. 
One morning, I went to visit him even though he wasn't scheduled for treatment, 'he's all alone ', I thought,' 'I should probably check on him, I'll just make sure he's alright, he's probably lonely.'  
As I walked by, I overheard a conversation with Lenny and his 90-something veteran, roommate, Sonny, "you know why you're here?!" he smugly explained, "your wife's pretty smart, she is smarter than me, she just just don't want to deal with you,  my wife's dead.  that's why I'm here."  He smiled.
I kept walking, frowning on the inside and out, That was pretty mean, if it was or wasn't true.
A  Frail old man in the 80s, with large rimmed glasses, a pronounced Jewish nose and a few wisps of gray hair, he was then the highlight of stressful days & a dear friend of mine.  I loved to walk into his room and rescue him from the dullness that had become his life after a long stint of failing health & trips to the hospital. Perhaps, sometimes he too, rescued me.
One morning, I approached the nurses station of unit three in my building to get him, only to hear that Lenny had gone to the hospital after falling out of bed over the weekend.   They told me he was far too weak to make the trip back.
  My heart broke and I walked on down the hallway, fighting the tears. 
"What's wrong??" A coworker from rehab approached me, seeing my blank expression.  'everything's wrong....' I wanted to explain, 'life's not fair.'
I knew this would happen, I knew deep down of how he was old and frail.   But sometimes the sharpness of someone's mind and the truthfulness of the spirit can lie to us.  Promising times to come.  Goodbye my friend.  It does not get easier but dulls my sadness once more to say...I was lucky to know you.   Your suffering will be over soon.  
Lenny died the next day.

Copyright © Maz Zie | Year Posted 2014

Long Poems