The sickness of grief is a buckling of the knees.
Hollow becomes a chest exhaling ignorable pleads.
Holding onto hope while prayers fall deaf to ears.
Coming to copes with the nightmares that you’ve feared.
Trying to rationalize what’s real & just a dream.
Pinching won’t wake you from the sadness that you scream.
Meaningless,
meaningless, everything!
The sacrifice for love is the misery it brings.
Yes, Gods gifts are precious & I’m thankful for each day,
But the greatest gifts he gives us are the ones he takes away.

RIP Gordon