There is this measure of coldness,
In a heart that I thought was warm,
Death has little effect on me,
Until I see the bodied lying as stone,
Might this have come, more than a decade ago,
When my mother died,
And with her all crying was done?
I cannot know for sure, so I choose not to be,
Bothered by the churning cycle, of life and what used to be,
Instead I remain focused, on whatever is forward,
The pain of others I want not feel,
Thus I forever ignore it.
Is this cold, or is this my way to cope,
I've spoken of many wants, of dreams,
And of all the things I hope.
I am human and fallible as all,
No one can provide a proper answer,
Thus on no man do I soon call.
Perhaps I'll find my answer in the bosom of God,
When I bend my knees to pray,
Some day receiving staff and rod.
Poem of the Day - Journey
Poem of the Day - Isn't Life These Things
Poem of the Day - Fear
Poem of the Day - Lovely Woman
Poem of the Day - Hope and Want
If you enjoyed any of my poems, check out my latest poetry release, Words of the Weary King