How to Move Forward After Death - a Poem about Loss
How to move on after death . . . ?
Nobody knows what it feels like to lose another person in this life, or to lose any such important thing in life...until it happens. I've felt it. I've also learned that most people don't know what to say to you when you experience such a loss. And maybe I'm the same way. Is there really anything we can say to help someone lost in the muck after such a loss as death?
Read poetry for National Poetry Month!
April is National Poetry Month! Read and share! Hope you enjoy this one! #23
Everyone else seems to have just moved on…
They ask “How are you?” as if they’ve forgotten.
Like it’s just another day
Another empty, hollow, meaningless, “How are you?”
One foot in front of the other
Trying to see past the gray haze.
I feel like I’m screaming but everyone just keeps hurrying by
How are you? I’m fine, I’m fine. Go on…
Go on to your luncheon, your whatevers,
Go shop for your precious treasures.
Buy and spend, eat and sleep. Do what you do
For another day. Another day lost.
Everything moves—traffic, people, even the clouds…
Yet I’m stuck in a fog that feels it will smother me.
How can they just keep going? Going where?
Busy, busy. Doesn’t even matter. Doesn’t.
Smiles and pleasantries. Back and forth.
Good morning. What’s so damn good?
Smile. Chatter. Chatter. Keep talking.
Lips moving that I don’t hear.
They say life goes on. Show me.
Goes on with what? And to what?
Goes on how? Why? And how?
By moving one dead foot in front of the other?
Yeah, I like your new ring.
Sure, your blouse is pretty.
Great haircut, nice color.
Guess it goes on for some.
Other Poems about Death & Moving On
- Don't Ask Me How I Am -Poem
After someone dies, how do you answer the over-used "How are you?" Does anybody really care? Based on personal experience, this poem explores the question of how someone may really feel inside.
- Death Changes Everything - Poem
Death changes everything. This is a poem I wrote about the changes that occur after death touches a person. In this case, the poem commemorates the feelings after my three year old nephew died.
© 2011 Victoria Lynn