There is nothing. Just nothing.
Oh, many believers in heaven and hell will say,
“He’s here, watching over you. He’s there when you celebrate his mother’s 60th birthday.”
He SHOULD HAVE BEEN HERE – he wasn’t.
He will never – be – anymore.
So, I say the same insanity.
I don’t feel it, nor believe.
Home, after the party
Something missing – always the same
There is no boy, no young man of 26 with
beautiful red hair, an infinite well of potential –
No young man of sensitivity, love, caring
No young man making us laugh, saying the unexpected-
Not exactly – we always expected that That’s who he was . . .
Late night, party over – lying awake, crying
Crying – something missing – My Boy
He is – just not –
I am – becoming not –
So much alike – yet a great difference
I found my love – He never had a chance.
So, I mourn for him still, but, cry not enough
Mourn for myself – the dead part
Yet, I still go on – not thinking enough
thinking too much.
Four long years – still not enough tears shed –
Every inch of this house should be dreadfully damp
This whole town, no! This whole world.
Awash with my sorrow –
Thankfully, tonight the tears gushed.
For every joy we try to share –
there is the missing
There will always be the missing