Then it hits you again,
The pain.
The tears,
The swollen rage.
The turmoil,
The loss.
It hits you when you least expect it,
When you smiled the day before.
It comes the next, it knocks your door,
And people, well, they don't get it.
They forget,
That your agony will last an eternity.
That's the thing about grief,
It doesn't wait in line.
You don't wait your turn,
Grief is an entity all on it's own.
It creeps up on you,
Even on a good day.
It waits to have maximum effect,
And leaves you pondering all of your regrets.
Regret that you didn't call more,
That you didn't make the most of your time.
That you have no more days to spend just talking, laughing, even arguing,
Regret that you even had one good day.
Grief will never leave you,
It will come back around.
It has many others to visit,
But it will never miss you out.
Grief, my dear friend,
When will I see you again?
YOU ARE READING
Ethereal Abyss
PoetryPoetry for me began as a much needed escape from the reality of this world. The same endless routines, faceless people day after day. A slow steady evolution began in my solitude as my work started changing from the torturing monotonous cries of esc...
