A toy sits as a memory of loss
Child or pet the tears in one’s soul is the cost
A song sung tells a story of another
A family member taken
The loss is the same, cannot be mistaken
Where is the healing of the tare?
The counter weight we wear.
The tears do not lessen
The weight within our hearts
When will this heaviness depart?
Shall it be lifted in time?
Or will it be brine?
Salt in the wound continually searing
Heart on my sleeve I will be wearing
Let my souls anguish be heard
With no word spoken
Before my heart becomes a token
For another’s love song
Sung to another
Through lyrics of despair
That makes others shudder.
Souls of all saints they speak easy about
Milling around while others shout,
Trick or treat they say is neat,
Yet to me my heart feels defeat.
How can we rejoice in the loss of another?
Or is this a holiday of disguise
Not from the wise but another?