Poem 147- Sometimes, when I think about it.

Sometimes, when I think about it.

Sometimes when I think about it, about the amazing shock and sadness you must have felt I could break in to pieces. I could lie down on the floor, I could scream and cry.

I could breathe deeper hoping to know what it must have been like. There are things missing in my life, things I have chosen to waste and burn. But the lack of choosing is what sets this pain apart.

Sometimes when I think about it I could hold you for days, I could break away knowing I will never understand. Sometimes I cry just knowing how sad it is I will never get to know a part of you so important that it lives in your skin and your heart and your eyelashes every day.

Sometimes when I think about it and all the things you had to undertake I don’t know how you survived, how you lived in other worlds, how you returned to the same place, how you breathed in the same air.

Sometimes when I think about it and you are there I have no ability, no words, no arms and no way to console even the tiniest part of you that cries out for something different.

Sometimes when I think about it I know I have missed out on something so special and I know your happiness must have been lost, down a well that has no bucket to pull back up.

But sometimes I hope I will be able to help you refill any hope, security and love in any way that I can.

And always I think with my best effort I might be able to achieve it.