Loss

It once was said, to have loved and lost

Is better than to never have loved. 

Whoever said this was sorely wrong,

Just ask my trembling heart. 

A piece of it has torn clear off,

Left bleeding on the ground.

A pound-less thump, a silent cry,

And only I can hear its sound. 

To say that I am devastated 

would be a terrible understatement.

There’s hope to mend when devastated,

But for me, this is obliterated.

I dare to think I’d rather be

The one to take this terrible blow.

‘Cuz death is easy for the dead,

It’s the ones left living that can’t let go. 

And praying for deliverance 

does little to ease this aching pain.

I wish I’d been the one to die,

Then I wouldn’t have to carry this blame. 

No matter how I wish or plead,

I cannot end this slow bleed. 

What’s written in stone is here to stay,

That’s a law of life— it moves one way. 

Although I cannot change the past,

Perhaps I can embrace its wisdom. 

Knowing that life will hand me lemons,

I’ll remember to squeeze out all of their lessons. 

If I’m to enjoy this physical plane,

Will I be ready to lose it by the end of the game? 

In a world riddled with transitions, unstoppable,

Pain is unavoidable, but suffering is optional. 

Life moves on, whether we move with it or not. 

If that’s so, can I learn to embrace its flow?

For loss is a lesson in letting go.