Poetry & Haiku For the Fallen

Too Little Too Late

Do you know what some have wrought from your sad and tragic life?
Not love, not knowledge, just pain and guilt and strife.
I guess one can't grow flowers where only pavement's found.
So what the hell am I doing here? You know I'm not that sound.
I'm sorry, Tim and just I hate to have to let you know,
That atop your precious ashes, not a thing can ever grow.
The only explanation I can offer for this sadness,
Is that you seem to unleash all kinds of fear and hate and madness.
I wish I could regale you with stories that ring true.
How much I have wished that I was with you too.
You knew ,oh too well, that life was often cruel.
That everything we needed wasn't ever learned at school.

I know I must live on, even though it seems too much.
Those I'd thought were friends, have gotten out of touch.

Why didn't you cry harder? 

Fear not the reaper, my troubled young friend.
And don't think that your earthly death signaled the end.
The fact is: You'll never again feel great pain.
No dark, looming clouds and no torrents of rain.

You'll have bountiful presents in heaven this year.
Such as laughter and happiness at long last, my dear.
As for those who are hoping you're burning in hell.
Just forget them, for they didn't know you too well.

I'm lighting a candle for you on your day.
But I'm finding it hard to know what I should say.
As your parents and sisters grieve that you are gone,
They're still struggling along, faces tear-streaked and wan.

Give them time, my friend, to heal and to always be strong.
And to realize that heaven is where you belong.
Anniversaries hurt when a loved one is lost.
It extracts a high price---it's a terrible cost.


Your parents will never know the suffering you fought.
Please set aside your guilt---give it no further thought.
It's okay to seek peace---it's been so very long,
So today, on your birthday, I'll sing a sad song.


         Endurance

As the winds of time gather strength and speed
And appear to sweep all signs of pain away,
You may someday find, in your hour of need,
A reason to live---quiet hours in which to pray.

They've misunderstood your struggle.
Pain offers strange gifts as it takes and takes.
Those who held you close, to this day remain,
True and loyal to you, despite all your mistakes.

None of us know what captured your soul that day,
Though many have claimed that they knew you.
To your family and friends, you had little to say.
You trusted no-one and none reached out to you.

You tried to tell those who then turned a deaf ear,
You were drowning in a debilitating sense of despair.
They would not listen, not while you were here

 Starved, transparent orb.
You'll eclipse the sun today.
Dripping lunar tears.