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
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