You may have died 17 years ago today
But I've always had a selfish wish
To keep you alive
You may have been ready to go
The expiration date given to by your sickness
Had been outlived by your will to survive
Just long enough to see your baby turn a year old
But we were not ready to let you go
17 years later I am clinging onto your existence
Or rather the empty space it left behind
You were somebody's husband
Somebody's father
Somebody's son-in-law
Somebody's brother-in-law
You were somebody
That lost your human form far too young
Some days are a battle
If fate was right to take you away
Because so many things have happened
Good or bad
As a result of your death
Or if fate was wrong
Because it robbed three young children and a young wife of her husband
Robbed a young man of his good health, mobility, and future
How is that the right thing to have happened?
How can you explain to a little girl, that all along
Her father was supposed to die just 5 days short of her second Christmas?
Leaving her to spend the next 17 years
Without her father who fought longer than he was meant to,
just for her
What words can make sense of that?
Do they exist out there?
.t.b.
-
Author:
tb (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 20th, 2021 22:06
- Comment from author about the poem: After four days in a coma, my father passed away in the living room turned hospital room of the very house I still live in, 17 years ago today. Only in his mid-to-late twenties, cancer took his life, widowing my mother and leaving her with three kids under 5.
- Category: Sad
- Views: 13
Offline)
Comments3
Heartwrenching story. It is a struggle to find the meaning in such situations. You have captured that in your piece very well
A sensitive write LR.
where our words, reach limits
to explain the suffering
we're forced, to endure in life
its a sign, that maybe
we're not meant to know
all the reasoning
behind this chaotic existence,
but what we can learn
is to appreciate
everything else, that hasn't
been taken from us
and look around, at those
all around
who look upon, us
as the lucky ones...
(I'm so sorry for your tragic loss
dear poet
there's never any sense
to the senselessness
in illness, that takes away
our loved ones..
may your father rest in peace)
and I'm sorry if my words
seem insensitive, in any way
I was just trying to offer
a small avenue for hope
in what must be, such
a mind-numbingly, bleak day
for you
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