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Upon Death
by Uriel TovarYou kept it secret
Inside yourself
As long as you could
The pain and the twisting
Torment in your gut
Happy memories becoming
Those things that you hate
To recall
Because they are just so hard
To bare
And every sympathetic message and
Apology becoming just as
Heavy
At night
Lack of sleep leaves
Your eyes
Rough and crinkly
As that dried out tissue
You grip in your hand
When the tears stop
That will be all that
Remains
01/07/2014 Posted on 01/07/2014
Copyright © 2025 Uriel Tovar
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 01/07/14 at 07:11 PM Glad you didn't keep this poem a secret, Uriel. I wonder how many forests were cut down, to turn into tissues, to sop our tears? I wonder how many forests would still be growing, if only were were loved? |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 01/08/14 at 09:53 PM You make the process of dying all too vivid. Brings back a memory that happened almost 20 years ago when my wife died. She loved living and fought to live. I thank God for our hope of Heaven. Once she relaxed she did not last but minutes. It was a very traumatic experience for me. The tears did flow! |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 01/10/14 at 03:10 AM This is a rough one to read, but worth exploring. |
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