Thursday, June 4, 2009

YET TO COME




Then
grief was cold and terrible
a heavy weight on the head
A lurking beast
ready to claim it's mark

Like a thousand needles
raining down without end
my shoulders too numb
to mount a defense

Now 
grief is an old coat
familiar yet unwanted
smelling of hopelessness
and tears yet to come

I still need you - Mom

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