Loss.

loss_of_the_wind_by_scheinbar-d54n2c1.jpg

Usually in control

The boss of my own words

Expression has never been

A weak-point

Quite the contrary;

Making words dance

Is an art I take pride in

Not really difficult to –

*Speed-bump*

My friend loses a loved one.

 

The right time to substantiate

All those messages of hope

That you relentlessly preach

Where?

Where are those precious words now?

Where is your supposed control

To comfort a loved one?

Powerless in the face of death

Standing still, gone mute,

An art chiseled over the course

Of five years, disintegrated

The word plate scrubbed clean.

 

That’s when I realized

That sometimes

The only thing anyone can do

Is give someone a hug.

 

– Original-Dante ©2016

 

Photograph by: scheinbar

5 Replies to “Loss.”

  1. Wow this was magnificent and so human. “An art chiseled over the course of five years, disintegrated. The word plate scrubbed clean.” -That’s so poetic. We have so many words, as writers but yet they all can be deemed useless when compared to something as impact full as a hug.

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