The Stain...

Be it pain, or anger - sometimes one and the same

The feelings almost, always, leave a deep, dark stain

Though usually not seen by the naked eye

If you look with your heart, no need to try

It shows up, like a blood stain, on a black-lit wall

The point of impact; the trail it took to fall

To the pile on the floor, where it lays there, unsure

Of what to do next, the goal being to endure

Though the loss of a loved one leaves a hole never filled

Even the most even-tempered, or the highest skilled

Have their moments of anguish, often silent and alone

They get through, stand firm, looking solid as stone

While others just cry, and go off by themselves

Keeping Circles small, and relationships on shelves

Praying for patience from the ones that they love

That they'll still be there, waiting, when are ready to move

And go on with a life, though now new, and off hold

And forgive all the times when felt given the cold

Shoulder by the one that was feeling such pain 

Until ready to join up, and live fully, again...


Connie R Jordan...    091918