a short word
for something
that has a long
life span of pain included.

Sometimes I wonder
whether I deal with it
in a way that is
actually going to
help me deal
with the grief.

I'll heard and read
different things about
how you need to act
when you are grieving.

Some say:
"The pain will go away
faster if you ignore it"
"It’s important to 'be strong'
in the face of loss."
"If you don’t cry, it means
you aren’t sorry about the loss."

But who are they,
to tell me that
I have to do these things
or else I don't care,
or aren't sorry.

Those that say
that you should
ignore the pain,
in order for
it to go away,
are naive.

You can try to
suppress your grief,
but you can’t avoid it forever.
you have to grieve!

Then, there are the
so called "stages" of grief.
The stages that everyone
supposedly goes through
when they are grieving.

There are five
stages of grief.
and, Acceptance.

Does everyone go
through each of these stages,
or do some skip certain ones?
I'm not sure, and don't know
whether I'll ever be
able to figure it out.

it's a short word
for something
that is around for
a long time.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I was reading about different people's thoughts on how to deal with grief, and decided to write a poem on grief. Please let me know what you think!

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You Left Me

Baby sister Poems

You left me,
left me behind,
when you left the earth.

I cried for you,
and tried to fly,
so I could follow.

Follow you,
up to the clouds,
where it is said, that heaven lays.

But, I could not fly,
even though I did try!
I could not leave the ground.

You’re my left side,
my best trustie!
but you left me behind.

And I cried,
waiting for you,
to come back to me.

I love you,
and wish quite true,
that I could see you.

You left me,
leaving me behind,
as you left my side.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A Poem I wrote in 8th grade about my baby sister's death.

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Sinking Down


I don’t know
why it is
that I’m feeling this way.

My heart feels
like it is
sinking downwards.

Sinking downwards
in my grief,
unable to get back up.

Sinking down,


Drowning down
into the grief,
unwilling to resurface.

Not struggling
to get out,
but snuggling down.

Settling in,
and letting the pain
overtake me.

Giving myself up,
to sink downwards,
into the deepest pain.

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Needing to Feel Sad

I feel as if
I should be sad,
but my body will not let me.

The hurt and pain,
that’s hidden inside,
refuses to come out.

Pushing as hard,
as I possibly can,
to get the pain out.

It pushes back,
laughing at me,
knowing I will not win.

Eventually I must give up,
let it know it has won,
let the pain stay inside.

Until I try again,
and get myself to cry,
then it will be alright.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written about my baby sister Jessica. Jessica, if you are able to read this, I love you, and I miss you sooo much! I'm sorry that we couldn't have gotten closer.

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Leaving Me Behind

Baby sister Poems

I feel sad,
and really bad,
maybe even a little mad.

You left the earth,
leaving me behind,
not ever to return.

All through your funeral,
I was by your side,
hoping you’d open your eyes.
Waiting for you to look at me,
grinning your special smile,
that showed that you love me.

I wouldn’t let anyone near,
and I reached out my hand,
placing it on your cheek.

I was startled,
your face was so cold,
no sign of warmth.

Feeling sad,
also bad,
but not mad.

Seeing your casket,
lowered into the ground,
It made this all final.

You wouldn’t be coming home,
wouldn’t be coming home,
you had left me.

You’re my baby sissy,
the one I’m connected to by blood,
the one I lost to death.

You lost your battle,
your battle with cancer,
and left me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem I wrote in 8th grade about my little sister's death, and I think it kind of shows the pain that I felt. Please Comment on it!

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How Do I Deal?

Sister poems

How do I deal,
now that you are gone?

I still recall
the way you'd laugh
when I said your name
in a deep man's voice.

How do I deal,
now that you
have been taken
away from me?

It's been several years now,
since I had to lose you.
But the pain of it all,
is still quite fresh in my heart.

How do I deal,
knowing that my baby sister
is no longer with me?

How do I deal,
with the knowledge that
there are things we'll never
get to do with one another?

I won't be able to hold you
in my arms anymore.
I won't get to do your hair.
I won't get to kiss your beautiful head.
I won't be able to tell you stories.

I won't be able to give you advice on life,
well, I could but how can that help you?

When I look up into the sky,
like I often do,
I know in my heart
that somewhere up there is you.

Somewhere up there is my babysister
looking down upon me.
Watching what I do,
and having fun up in heaven.

How do I deal,
with the knowledge
that I don't have you
by my side anymore.

What kind of world is it,
where a little baby sister
dies before her mother,
or before her big sister does?

What kind of world
takes a baby away from
the ones who love her dearly.

What kind of place
takes a baby away
right before she goes and lives
with her brand new mommy?

How do I deal,
without my baby sister
by my side?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I thought about my baby sister, and my heart started aching for her, and my arms wanted to hold her again. So, I put my fingers onto the keyboard, and just started writing.

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No Desert Poppies

Viet Nam Pieces

In desert sands no poppies grow.
Unmarked, their crosses, row on row.
Young life cut down, Youth tarries, dead.
Hope hovers high; mem'ries un-fled,
still held despite the fate we'll know.

'Spite death, love lives - unbowed - to show
yon lives the way Justice must flow,
'though ardor and fervor have yet yielded
no desert poppies.

Truth rose, fought darkness, met its foe,
wrestled, won; failed, and rose again. So
guard its journey 'mid blackness wide.
Still burns its torch ! Held high with pride !
Cowards lack the will, 'though Heroes know
no desert poppies.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

In the Villanelle form, as is Flanders Fields.

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O'er Countess Graves

Viet Nam Pieces

O'er countless graves Love's teardrops flow
to earth to nourish mem'ries that grow.
Cherished the place, beloved each face,
each sparce, narrow garden is a holy place;
those whose Love turned Grief now know.

Strong word is "Love", despite Death's throe.
'Tis sunrise there, still night here below.
Peaceful Love with Stately Grief God doth replace,
o'er countless graves.

"Take up our dream!", they tell us, "GO !
Liberty's strong thread, run it! So
lives, hopes, dreams, fires-of-Soul may pace
yet coming runners in Life's race,
and ALL win !" 'Though Death counts countless tears
. . . . . o'er countless graves.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The young generation who fought the latest war knows the futility of war better than anyone else knows it. They stand at their fellow warriors' graves and remember why they died. They alone can tell future populations of that futility, but will that population listen? Will they learn?

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When you visit my grave, do not shed a single tear.

When you visit my grave,
do not shed a single tear.
I am not there.

I am in a much better place where
heavenly winged humans greet me day and night.
A colossal and flawless land stretches beyond my sight.
I am in a tranquil home made of diamonds and gold,
where fair companions serve me food
never too hot or cold.

Where are you? you may ponder.
I am in heaven. A placid place, as big as the earth
and free from hostility.
I have been lifted by the majestic hands of thy lord, so that I may
rest in eternal peace.

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