Poem: Fragmented Sorrow
Thank you for stopping by. This poem can now be found in my poetry collection “Origami Stars and Hot Air Moon” published by Winter Goose Publishing.
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
Poetry, Horror, Psychological Thrillers
Thank you for stopping by. This poem can now be found in my poetry collection “Origami Stars and Hot Air Moon” published by Winter Goose Publishing.
What a beautiful heartfelt piece! And I love those last two verses. It was the perfect note to end it on. 🙂
Oh, thank you! There are many poems that I’ve shared where I have a debate with myself on whether I should share them or not, because my poetry tends to be more openly raw and vulnerable than anything else I write. This was one of those that I debated.
I’m not sure why there’s a debate, I write to share with others. And even when I ask the question, there’s already part of me that knows by the mere existence of the debate, I’ve already decided I will share it.
Thank you for reading!
Everything about this piece was painstakingly beautiful.
Thank you, EM!
You’re most welcome, Mandie.
Loved it, Mandie. I wrote poetry exclusively for 20 years before discovering the joy of writing humor. You really nailed it with the comment, “openly raw and vulnerable.” I’ve always felt that poetry is a window to the soul.
I remember one poem I wrote called “The Visit” about seeing my Dad in a dream and how youthful and vibrant he was. It was a wonderful dream. He died at 95 after a few years of dementia, just an empty shell of the man he once was. I believe he is happy in his new realm, and that makes me happy too–but I still miss him. My tears are for me, not for him.
Thank you, Russell! That’s probably one of the reasons I enjoy your humorous pieces so much, they provide a break from the darker pieces I write.
Thank you for sharing the story about your dad. “My tears are for me, not for him.” I completely understand this.
I can really feel this, every person dying leaves a vacancy of all the things that could have been… every part of your life (joyous or sad) is filled with that loss. I realized that my father would have had his 100th birthday a week ago. There have been moment when I wish that he could have read my words, even have him saying that it was no good.
That’s one of the best parts of sharing my grief, Björn, having people share stories about their loved ones. It’s like I get to meet people who I wouldn’t have had the chance to encounter otherwise.
I’m sorry for your loss. What a marker in time, to have his birthday just pass. And to think he would have been 100.
I find it difficult to comment here, because of the lump in my throat.
I love this, it says so many things that we all feel at times but have insufficient talent to put into words.
Thank you, C.E. You’re too kind. 🙂