Missing someone special

I'm dealing with my own heartbreak right now with my own personal death. Maybe I could better understand it if I read about some of your thoughts on loss, heart-ache, and missing someone very dear.

No rules other than only two poems per person.

Thanks.

Gone Forever Alive With Me

No longer you're here
The rains come to stay
Why did it happen
On that tragic day
Why did you leave me
Here all alone
How could I not see
The symptoms you've shown

No day now goes by
That I do not think
And when realized not here
My feelings just sink
You're still on my mind
Day in and day out
And there are still days
That I need to shout

WHY DID YOU TAKE HER
WHY IS SHE GONE NOW
Bury my head in my face
And ask myself how
How could I have stopped this
What could I have done
But I realize
Her hour has come

So she stays with me always
Safe in my mind
Not even in memory
Could I leave her behind
But bravely march forward
As we all must do
I carry this out
For she'd want me to

Great entry Skill. Thanks for stopping by

Delariviere.

I remember the day I found out, I was to be a mother. I remember being terrified, I was to have another.

Excitement coursed through the veins I had slit hollow. Bandages embraced me, the rest of my life followed.

My stomach hardened, as my heart melted down. I couldn't wait to sing you the lullabies I'd found.

"Set in stone," I thought. "Certainly it's true." But it shattered like stained glass, Baby girl, I failed you.

Down crashing, came the waves. I was drowning in the loss. Your blood upon my stupid hands, tattooed, and cut across.

The fault wasn't yours, I swear it was me.... You won't see the sun, I won't hear you breathe.

Could I have held you, just one fleeting moment? No, looking back, I don't think I deserve it.

Are you really dead?
Are you really gone?
Were you even really alive?
It was too good to be true,
Too much love
You gave me,
Too much love to look after
And now that you're
Gone
It's all mine.
Please, come home
Come back to me
Tell me it's a dream,
That the crash didn't happen
That your eyes are still open
And your still thinking of me.
I want to wake up
From this nightmare this hell
And just talk to you
Like we used too.
I want this all to be unreal
I want my brother back,
I want my friend back,
I want you back,
But I can't
Have you with me
Anymore
Because it DID happen
And you won't ever come back,
You won't ever talk to me
Or hug me and smile
You won't ever say
I love you
Again,
All because your dead.

Dad

Your shadow walking by my window
I have to question weather you are really there
I miss your smiling face, your belly laughs
there is no one else that can compare.

To hear you singing, your deep baritone boom
your voice much louder then my own
I'll miss the fun and silly games
my heart will forever be your home.

And now it's time to say goodbye
to you, Round Mound of Sound
I'll try my hardest not to cry
when they place you in the ground.

You were only nineteen
just a baby
compared to others
A fatal car accident
Tonight I cry
Day by day
I really do try
I think of you every single day
Lying in bed
Here I pray
Hey Joel I miss you
With I know you are
A temporary vacation
Until we meet again
Keep us all safe
Talk to God your friend
Let my family be safe
Even tho you weren't
Ease our pain
Because i cant stand you're gone
Here I lie
And end my prayer
Love you bud
See you later:)

You were my first
Love and loss
The one I trusted
Beyond all others
Now you're gone
And here I cry
I gave you what you wanted
So never again
Will I trust a man

Flowers

As if I've never developed
the ability to speak
I stutter. I stuttered,
upon seeing your pretty
face covered up with
crimson flowers.

Ampersand

I write for you as if
you were my ampersand:
a thin string between sane
and insane.

Thanks for the poems guys, they are all what I asked for

"pocket knife"
     




     My old man was six foot three, and three hundred twenty pounds, they called him junior until he was about six years old. Too big they said, they called him Bud. He had hands as hard and coarse as pumice, and a beard thick and proud, made of steel wool or cotton depending on which side of his fence you were on. He worked all week cutting concrete and never brought it home. Baseball practice after dinner, and he would drive. A joint while reading Louis Lamar watching one of his boys play ball, never a complaint. He asked nothing in return except twenty minutes alone to shit which he hardly ever got. He loved my mom hard, and with a subtle grace no rugged man should know.  
      I lost my pop thirteen years ago when I had just become a man, only a pup of a beard on my face. I have honored and embarrassed his memory countless times in those years. I have loved hard and subtle, but without the balance and grace that he displayed. I have been to the same prisons he had been to without learning the lessons he would have beat out of me.
      I recently found a small pocket  knife that he left in the back of a drawer. Tarnished and dull I remembered how he used to go on and on about the value of good steel. I have now run that old, three inch piece of metal towards and against stone for several hours. As the edge and the shine come back through I want to kiss my mother and grow back my beard.




****this is a pre-write and certainly more prose than straight forward poem. posted it as it is relatable i think....Dream, truly truly sorry for your loss my man, a very touching share you offer, and a returned sympathetic sway of my heart towards you*****

lightbaron said:"pocket knife"
     

****this is a pre-write and certainly more prose than straight forward poem. posted it as it is relatable i think....Dream, truly truly sorry for your loss my man, a very touching share you offer, and a returned sympathetic sway of my heart towards you*****

That's fine lb, as long as it came from your heart, it can be a poem, prose, or short story. Thank you for your entry and your kind words.

Why did we drift apart?
Was it God's plan for you to be in deaths cart?

Breaking my heart...
The silence will now start

No screams leave my lips
But your blood is stained on my finger tips..

My first friend..
We were supposed to be together till the end..

Then that damned car forgot to stop..
Making it seem that it was not

Being the age of five
Friends were special things

Watching mine die
Right in front of my eyes...

Well I couldnt even cry...
Lilly-boo I couldnt if I tried

I wont foregt the fun times we had
Nor that night that was terribly bad...

I promise you I wont let you down
I wont ever let that happen to another friend while Im still around..

This is my vow to you
I'll always love you Lilly-boo  

Questionnaire
 
 
 
1. have you ever seen  
 
a dopey eyed undertaker  
ramble about his eye sight  
as few funeral pyres    
[with one that concerns you]  
of varying degrees burn  
on a night  


wintry  
endless
desolate  
 
2. have you ever seen  
 
skeletal street dogs and comatose bulls  
aestivate and ruminate under a black sky  
carpeted by a thick layer of gathered dust  
and forgotten ash-relics and reminders of    
unsung  
forgotten    
unknown  
souls-  
 
clinically corroded by time  
 
3. have you ever seen  
 
curious eyes gaze upon  
charred carcasses ablaze  
as joints crackle    
interjecting the engulfing silence  
and diseased muscles melt down  
seeping into the cheap wood  
[brought at retail price by the vendor]  
 
4. have you ever seen  
 
hollowed cheeks and stooped shoulders  
in between indifferent pretenders  
all united    
in an act of faith    
and mundane stoicism  
 
wailing  
weeping  
wobbly  
wandering  
waiting  
 
calculative  
calculating    
 
the time    
and price    
and loss    
 
o f    c o u r s e




p.s- power be with you. :] light. x