Every loss we feel was once a gain

Of mother and my sisters, I’m bereft.

Of the four a single one is left

Yet would we like to be a rock or stone?

Unmoved by feelings, heavy,dark, alone?

Though my sisters died, I feel them still.

The connections to my heart negate my will

Yet if my heart were made of metal cold

I would feel no joy though I were bold

The roots of love leave holes when loved ones die

The roots are torn out wildly, love goodbye

I miss my mother and my sisters two

Without such old companions what to do?

Words make cliches, die  when overused

My heart   still aches, for I have lost my muse

Words like weapons wound us when they show

Nothing lasts, the every loss a blow.

Should we be grateful though we are in pain?

Every loss we feel was once a gain