The world doesn't seem to mourn the loss of friends the way they do the loss of lovers.
That is a terrible flaw! Where are the sonnets? Where are the plays? Where are paintings and funeral processions to mark the loss of all those with which we have shared a secret side of ourselves, one we will never get back.
I want to mourn it all! The bittersweet taste of remembrance; I will mourn the kinship! The sisterhood that burned bright at birth and was woefully extinguished like the stars in our galaxy, its ethos and beauty snatched cruelly away by life.
I will mourn the love, the memory, the life that was and the plans made for the future. I will mourn and never stop mourning because it feels like I have been robbed and for that alone, I must mourn.
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Quiet women and other myths: A collection of musings
PoetryI wouldn't go so far as to call this poetry (which would imply that *I* am a poet), but I can safely call this a collection of musings, thoughts and sometimes badly strung up words about anything and everything.
