Grief Poem

Sun, 12/15/2013 - 17:11 -- kcorum


It begins as a sharp pull to the knees.

You fall, and feel the sting;

Your hands catch yourself, and your breath falls anyway.

The sudden movement is hard to comprehend.

Trying to rise,

You lift your head.

For a moment, all seems fine,

Like the events that just trespassed

Were made up.

That's when the wave hits.

You have broken your kneecap,

And the pain is the most passionate thing you will get feel.

After the initial hurt,

The pain is still there and you can speak without crying.

The emotional hurt begins, though the physical will reappear.

It leaves marks on you

And each time it bites,

You see it in your eyes,

The corner of your mouth,

The clenching of your hands.

It begins to change your head.

The Vision becomes blurry,

And sometimes the Confusion follows.

The unnatural Thoughts of Life and Death

Occur more frequently

Than anyone believes to be healthy.

You drink,

Or you would, if you were the type.

But you're not.

Your head already hurts enough.

It hurts like your eyes -

Sore and tired all the time.

Then the sunglasses will cloud your mind

And the world is darker.

But the sepia tones are beautiful sometimes

And they take your breath away;

Sometimes it's like seeing for the first time.

Others, it's a view you know is not yours,

But the worlds.

Eventually, you work around these

And walk with a limp that will almost fade over time.

But it will never go away.

Your cane will follow,

Whatever it may be.




It will be the thing you lean on

When you feel it hurts too much to walk.

Sometimes it will hurt too much for the night,

And you sit and ache

While the passion of what you first felt courses around your body again,

Into every crevice,

Trying to break out into the fresh air

But it never will.

It will try to tear you apart

But you will not let it.

It will always fade.

Each time you feel the pain

Is a happy reminder that you are still human,

Still a good being,

And your ability to move on is not a gift from the devil.

And each time the pain returns,

It pushes back your next injury back.

They still happen, though.

You still feel.

But that's alright.

The most passionate emotion is pain.

It lets us feel Human.




Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741