Everybody says you get through the grief so dense you can’t breathe
But nobody gives you a clue how. What they say, how they say
They found their way rarely makes sense to me.
Everybody says you find joy again, real purpose in your life
But nobody tells you how long and what the process extracts
From your being each day as you find your way.
Everybody wants you to be well, be happy, don’t bleed on them
But nobody tells you how you staunch the flow just for them
How you can be a friend again when you are dying one tiny
Sliver at a time.
Judy Roney
November 24, 2009
2 comments:
I hear you, Judy. This is a hard poem of life. Hugs to you.
I understand so well your words,Judy. The world thinks you should just get on with your life and stop "bleeding" all over them.
glenda B.
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