Ditch the ads, upload images and much more - upgrade today from 5.95/month!
Read Contests Groups Learn Forums Store Help
 

Loving Jim

How can I speak of my pain,
When you lie there in pain of your own,
As the disease I so despise takes you from me
Piece by piece, day by day,
Till I’m filled with despair.

Still, your eyes plead with mine for hope.

When I looked at you today,
I knew that the last time we danced,
Was the last time forever.
And I knew that I would never
hear music the same way again.

How can I tell you how much
I miss you when you are still here.
When each new day brings with it a new loss
until there are so many, I wonder how long I can bear
to smile bravely and soldier on.

Yet, your eyes plead with mine for hope.

When I looked at you today,
I knew that the last time we made love,
Was the last time forever.
And I longed for your touch with
an intensity I never thought possible.

How can I tell you how hard
it is, feeding your hope when mine’s gone,
When I can see the outcome so clear,
And I know that your time here
will soon be drawing to a close.

And your eyes plead with mine for hope.

How can I tell you?
I cannot, so I smile and soothe,
And I whisper the sweet words of comfort
that I know you need to hear.
And when I weep, I weep alone.

For your eyes plead with mine for hope.

Author notes

This was written in the last months of my husband's life. He left this world on December 01, 2006, but he will never leave my heart. Thanks for listening.

Please tell me what you think

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments


  • Corey Harvard gold member
    March 14, 2007

    Edit | Reply
    It would be terribly difficult for me to approach this critically. I've read it several times now. I keep meaning to leave something for you, but I just don't know what to say.

    At its core, poetry is how we speak when only abstractions and ideas come nearest to how we feel. That's why poems like this - although they may never be published - are the truest poems. They aren't written by people with degrees who're trying to make a name for themselves; they're written by people who need more than ordinary expressions to approach what's really going on inside of them.

    There were a couple lines that were especially effective (to me).

    And I knew that I would never
    hear music the same way again.


    That one put a knott in my stomach.

    And when I weep, I weep alone.

    To me, this line was important. It's like your thesis statement; the main idea that runs behind the whole thing. Here, at the conclusion, you make it very clear and poignant. Good closure to the poem, no doubt.

    It's beautiful.