Long Sorry for your loss Poems
Long Sorry for your loss Poems. Below are the most popular long Sorry for your loss by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Sorry for your loss poems by poem length and keyword.
It's been weeks, but you, Royal and Linda have been on my mind...
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If only I could find the words
to comfort your grieving hearts,
I would gather them all up,
put them in a box
and wrap it up all pretty,
even put a blue plush unicorn on top.
HUG it.
then send them to you...
Sadly I don't :(
I know words sometimes aren't enough.
When one loses someone they love, does one ever heal?
I think I lied in my other poem, saying that time can heal.
I don't feel it fully can.
When you lose someone who's been in your heart,
that hole can never be patched up...
I see it as being kept in a chamber of your heart,
A place where maybe you alone can reach.
Share that pain, and as hard as it may seem,
please take comfort to know that Bael is loved.
He shares your hearts, beats through you, it would be impossible
that he didn't feel that love.
Continue sharing that love, and he lives on.
I truly believe in this, and I am hoping that even in some
tiny way, you can seek comfort knowing that he knew, he Felt
how loved he is.
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Linda, I hope you don't mind me using "Soul Dropper"
That was the term you used in one of my poems from way before,
when you told me about what happened, it felt like a part of my soul
dropped for you...
Again, I'm just truly sorry for your loss and this is one of the best ways
I can express it right now.... God bless you both and your family.
04122013
Form:
When Words Don’t Come Easy”
Today is the kind of day when words don’t come easily. The bouquet of flowers arrives at the house, and I find myself grappling with acceptance. Is she truly gone? Am I prepared to make arrangements, to return there? Can I bear the pain, am I ready?
The calls await—those conversations where condolences are offered, where the words “I’m sorry for your loss” hang in the air. Today, words feel elusive, like butterflies slipping through my fingers.
Preparing for death is a daunting task. Grief wears a mask, and I suppress my emotional pain. I tell myself to remain logical, to cling to biblical thinking. But it rushes over me, relentless.
My prayer for the day echoes Psalm 34:18: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” And I hold onto the truth that God is our refuge, our strength—an ever-present help in trouble.
May these words bring solace and strength during this difficult time. ??
My Dad, a pretty ordinary man,
Suddenly taken by a heart attack.
People are offering all that they can,
Cakes and hot casseroles we do not lack,
Hard to believe the whole town has our back.
Their kindness seems to be never ending
The new normal of mine just keeps bending,
Focus seems to be on us completely,
Thoughtfulness and support, all are sending,
Comments of sympathy made so sweetly.
Sorry for your loss, just how old was he,
Using this information did matter.
I reply he was almost eighty-three,
The mood changes, I hear idle chatter.
Suddenly I feel a great deal sadder,
Death is simply another part of life,
You should be grateful and not feel such strife.
He was old, did not suffer, I was told,
My heart bleeds after the cut by this knife.
Judging approval of death by age --- cold.
Written July 27, 2012
For Cyndi MacMillan’s contest
“Do You Understand”
Won 3rd place
To my Dearest Darling Rose
I am writing this letter to you at this
moment sat on my own up on deck
of the ship and it's around midnight
We are somewhere due south of the
equator in the middle of the Indian Ocean
off the coast of east Africa
We did the line crossing ceremony today
so all the guys are as you can imagine
pretty done in from all the festivities and
unlimited rum rations
It's so hot and humid down below deck
that the smell and snoring make it virtually
impossible to sleep for me doesn't seem to
bothering them at all though
I can't begin to describe what it is like to
you at night out here
The sea and sky are so black and luminous
you can barely tell exactly where they meet
and the horizon is
Apart from to say you only see the
moonlight bouncing off the odd ripple
or wave
And it's so deadly silent apart from the
humming of the ship's engine and now
cutting a path through the water
And the sky and the stars Rose my love
Maybe are as beautiful as you are to me
the same way your eyes light up your face
Honestly I can't lie Rose it's getting harder and
harder to be away from you and you are the
only thing I have come to rely on to keep
me going
Anyway Rose my love I suppose I should
start making my way down below deck
again and try and get some sleep while
I still can
And end as always telling and letting you
know just how much I miss and love you
and simply cannot wait for this hole sorry
mess and saga so I can finally come back
home to you and our boy so we can be and
live as a proper family
But for now kiss my boy on the head and
let him know how much I love him and
cannot wait to see him in person
All my love truly till then
Dear John
Dear Rose
Regretfully we are writing to you
To inform you that in the
21 June 1941
H.M.S Apparition
Along with all of her
111 Crew Members
Where lost at sea
No survivers remained
Sorry for your loss
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“She was a lovely person, inside and out!”
With “ . . . so sorry” . . . “ . . . so sorry” still sing-songing in my mind,
I heard, “She’s in a better place, Dear!”
I cringed at this one while hugging the well-meaning,
sweet friend and fighting the urge to scream,
“She should be at the movies with her friends!”
My legs had no bones;
God must have been holding me up.
Oh, God, You could have simply refused to let her come to You!
Then you wouldn’t have to be my legs.
The piano music and singing were almost indescribably beautiful,
the parts I heard.
Our Pastor said all the right things,
avoiding the common platitudes.
Of course, he didn’t disclose why her young heart failed.
Love of family and friends was not enough,
at that time, to comfort me.
**************************
She was hooked—from the first time.
Rehab failed repeatedly.
My fervent prayers weren’t enough.
My love, which I thought was SO powerful, wasn’t enough.
Date: September 9, 2019
Contest Title: Sometimes Love Is Not Enough
Sponsor: Silent One
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
For Melissa:
This poem is a message from your garden. I'm so sorry for your loss. May you experience a miracle to restore the beauty of nature and hope in your garden. Blessings, love and light.
Gaia is crying
(My human is crying too)
By Michelle Morris
27/04/2023
They cut down the gardens
Gaia gasped at the destruction
The Universe felt the loss
Deliberate and calculated harm
My human came home to chaos
She is bereft and heartbroken
Silent and alone
The bees and butterflies have gone
Gaia is crying
My human is crying too
Why do people embrace the darkness
And destroy beauty and hope and truth
Foliage rare and irreplaceable
Protected and needed for life
Gone for good this time
By irresponsible and careless acts
They cut down those gardens
Then poisoned the remaining roots
The garden is no more, my human
And Gaia is filled with hurt
Oh, Gaia is crying
My human is crying too
May there be a miracle healing
Of this garden and our planet's heart
© Michelle Morris, 2023
Familiar faces, in the saddest of places
A hug and an "I love you"
A few more wrinkles, still the same old twinkles
As we talk about yesterday's news
The bitter taste of death, take a deep breath
With every handshake, a wet tissue
We watch the parade, behind dark shades
The file stops to admire the view
The sweetest of tears, wash the dust from the years
"It's so sad. I'm sorry for your loss."
"A second mother to me," "Like a sister, was she."
As the sugar gets spilled then tossed
But this life is fleet and always bittersweet
We learn, to roll with the flow
The older we get, the less we regret
'cause how sweet, the bitterness grows
by Daniel Turner
July 29 2017
Drone Warfare
Bring an end to winter. To these lethal strikes.
Drones and bombing foggy days over Kyiv.
The bombs are still being heard around the clock,
Non-stop. Shadow on the radar.
Haunting symbols, leaving lingering trauma
and invisible wounds.
So (Sow) maty (Mother) zhyto (Rey).
Their weeping mothers.
“I’m sorry for your loss”.
For your loss, it has come at a devastating cost.
There is still a blue road. Fire won't destroy everything.
The drowned remain ours, to be treated as
collateral damage or unspoken beyond a humanitarian
crisis; slowly moving toward the blur.
Trying to articulate silence.
While battlefields are increasingly being used by
Drones, known as gray zones.
Watching as this subnormal unfolds.
To think while walking among the shambles
Those cemetery walls.
Satellite breaching the sacred with pierced intent.
There will be a resurgence from a sobering reality.
What endurance can teach us all.
Not falling victim to a dictator's aggression defies.
As a phoenix rises, we reclaim the nation.
The loss of a child, can be quite hard, to bare,
it’s just not the natural order and it will never seem fair.
Our children are everything, we give them our all.
They get every hug and kiss, and we pick them up when they fall.
I remember a little boy who I have not seen, in quite a while.
His laugh was infectious and I can still see his smile.
He is now a grown man, but that is not what I see.
I just see that little boy, laughing and smiling back at me.
He was a part of something special, a family that I love and adore.
They helped mend my broken heart, and never shut their door.
Weekends at the lake and holidays spent in their home,
in my hour of need, they made sure that I was never alone.
No greater love have I seen, in all my days,
than that of this family, with their kind and generous ways.
It’s been twenty-five years since this young boy was born,
I am sorry for your loss, and now with you I will mourn.