A Prayer for the Living


Another one gone,

but I don't pray for them,

not for their broken bodies,

or their short lived lives,

I pray for the ones left over,

those they left behind,

broken in spirit,

I pray for Brit,

whose mother is dead,

whose father is poor,

whose baby sister is motherless,

whose little brother is now broken,

I don't care about her mother,

burried now,

there is nothing to be done,

I care about Brit,

who now has one less parent,

who now has to care for her few month older sister,

I don't pray for the dead,

that might make me cruel,

and cold,

and heartless,

and I rarely pray for the living,

but I pray for Brit,

even though neither of us are religious,

and have long sinse left the light of such things as heaven,

but I pray for Brit,

even though it's silent,

and I don't think anyone will here,

I pray for Brit.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741