I haven’t got the energy for grief.
The bag of tears cracked, now it’s overdry
Is a conversation a relief?
Or is it better just to sit as a sigh?
If only all my bones would turn to dust
And I could join the compost on the heap.
Or would the cruel jackals feel disgust?
I might as well expect the slow worm leap.
Take away my heart for it is pained
I can live without it if I choose
But do not live on me with your disdain
One day you might walk in these my shoes
For what is self reflects the other’s soul.
Grief and sadness, love, may make us whole