I Hope, Brother

Mon, 04/16/2018 - 16:16 -- aomran

Your death took place on a Tuesday
That day marked the death
Of my pen

You laid lifeless before the examiner
The last place you would exist
As you always had been - whole.

Poetry taught me that there are
Some things you cannot say
Some things that don't need saying
Some things silent

As you are now - silent
As my pen is now - silent
Because words do not fill space
Like water in a vessel 

Words have no weight and float
In the air above our heads
Till we have the time and 
Convenience to catch them

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs
Does not tell us at which point
Beauty becomes beauty again
After death renders all ugly

I hope, brother,
That in death you have beauty
Beauty which had been denied you
In life

I hope, as well,
That words return to my pen
That I may write to say
I miss you.


This poem is about: 
My family



Wow. That was powerful. Beautiful writing about such a serious topic. I would suggest hitting up our RIP Mourning Guide, but it seems you beat us to it. This was so well written and it is amazing to see you express such vivid emotions in your writing. This sounds like a difficult topic for you. I am thankful you have your writing to get you through such a tough experience. Keep on.

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