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Sat 29 Dec, 2007 12:05 pm
Gray clouds cover the sun and dead grass crunches under foot
But it was not like this all the time
the echoes of laughter lingers
The pungent odor of smoke floats on the air
And the shadows in the corners seem darker
I can hear you laugh and I smile and remember
The wind blowing in my eyes and through my hair
The silence is thick and it seems like the shadows
Not only lurk in the corners of the room but through my mind
I can see your smile and the way your eyes seemed to sparkle
As I look up to grab your hand that pulls me up from that low place
An uncertain feeling starts to churn inside me as I make my way to you
It writhes in my gut before it claws its way thru my chest into my throat
The advice you gave me still echoes in my heart and soul
Knowing you were there for me at every turn made me stand straighter and taller
I choke as I round the corner and the picture is violently clear
Painted with deep crimson and bright vermillion with sharp wide strokes
In a flash I see two boys running and playing in bright sunshine on green grass
Smiling and grinning with mud stained knees and dirty faces
In a bang and a flash their smiles are gone and so is mine
The bitter taste of copper rushes through my mouth and stains my spirit
I search for you, trying to reach down into the dark for something
anything
But as hard as I try to return the favor your hand is not there for me to grab
Another flash and I see two brothers, both brave
but one braver
Always thought it was you, but now I know it was always me
I stood there stained with your life, deep past the layers of my clothes
On the outside it washed away but my heart and soul will wear those stains for all time
You are gone from me but always with me
Running and playing in bright sunshine and green grass.
As I look up to grab your hand that pulls me up from that low place
I like this sentence.
Is this about a person close to you that has died?
Nice tribute.
Thanks...
It's about my older brother...he died from a self inflicted gunshot wound...I tried but there was nothing I could do to save him...
I'm sorry to hear that.
I feel suicide is a very selfish act.
It leaves others to pick up the pieces and carry all the hurt.
Your poetry will help your grief to flow through you and out on the paper. Keep writing.
Take care.