Over a shallow grave of blood and flesh
a mere fistful of tears are flung.
Brief life with questionable purpose;
unseen, unheard, unsung.
Untold life will soon be forgotten-
Tiny flicker of hope it once held
of unseen tears, unheard laughter,
and unsung lullabies before bed.
So life goes on behind a false facade,
but the faintest grief still lingers.
And with it remains the tiny flicker of hope
still yearning to count tiny fingers.
Author notes
Prompt #2: Emotions... the title and poem speak for themselves.
A contest entry
- Tear-jerkers by McRae by nature.
900 points, ended August 18, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
This sounds like the mourning of a mother who has miscarried a child. Really well written and very sad as well. Thanks for entering.
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