Seventy-seven years ago.
You came into this world and so,
I’d like to say inside feels bad,
That feeling, for you I’ve never had.
You will always forever be,
That last year at seventy-three,
I live a life today without,
Worrying about a lot of doubt.
I did not actually cry that day,
When you finally went away,
Sat and listened to the words,
While people stood around in herds.
I now see that they came to see,
My brothers, aunt, and yes, for me,
Her companion she had but little time,
He has come to be family of mine.
Didn’t know they cared for you,
But what I feel will have to do,
I will never shed a tear,
Not this nor any other year.
Powerful poetry you write! I am sorry for your struggles, but so glad you now know that you are truly loved.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is truly one of the things that I hang on to.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I read it over again, which I rarely do, and made a few adjustments, which I felt expressed a little more deeply, the way I felt, and feel.
LikeLike