Missing

Missing

 

I’ve got it all planned out, you’ll see.

I’ve hired someone to do the missing for me.

I’ve become impatient and salty.

Life keeps handing me buckets from the sea;

I’m supposed to dump them out my eyes,

And compete with grayish silver skies.

So I am so sincere in saying:

I AM DONE with missing!

 

Death has taken too many of my loves

And no, I don’t find solace in doves.

So I’m off to find the places where

All of you once were.

And I won’t miss the sun in your eyes

Or rocking you and singing lullabies.

I’ll sit where there used to be a bench

And watch where the treetops stretched.

And I won’t miss worrying about you

Wondering, if you fell, what would I do?

I won’t miss you at all.

My heart hasn’t broken at all.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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