The date or
time I'm unsure,
But with every
roll of sadness,
My flame died
a little more.
I seem to
laugh a lot less now,
I find it hard
to write,
My thoughts
often feel muggy,
I keep them inside, wound up tight.
It's a forever kind of tired,
Like an aching
in your bones,
Every step can
feel an effort,
Like your
shoes are filled with stones.
Being grateful is exhausting,
Being sad just
feels unjust,
Feeling robbed
yet being thankful,
Feeling
permanently crushed.
Learning to accept his complexities,
Putting on
your Mum mask,
Feeling guilty
for your unhappiness,
For a path he also did not ask.
Watching others celebrate joy,
One you will never understand,
From a wiggly
healthy belly bump,
To toddler
first steps holding hands.
Oh to take that journey on your own,
With no
sideline medical crowd.
Feelings that
make you feel ashamed,
They taste
bitter when said aloud.
So I tuck them in my back pocket,
Fold them
clean away,
Brush them
like crumbs from a table mat,
These things I
must never say.
Because what
right do I have to feel like this?
To feel that I
deserved more,
When grief and
sorrow lie silently,
Behind every
closed door.
We never compare happiness like this,
Yet with
sadness we hold different rules,
It needs to be
justified, you question yourself,
Will your
heavy heart make me look like a fool?
But I cannot ignore it any longer,
I need to look
grief in the face,
Let the tears flow
to feel stronger once more...
Let my light take the darkness' place.
