I Mourn

My mistake. My mistake for thinking you would be there as I grew older, that I would be able to hold your hand and hug you evermore. My mistake for not keeping you closer, not loving and caring for you, not calling you. My mistake. I mourn for these lost moment and I mourn because you have passed, just as we all will. Life is both beautiful and scary. The trees die and are born again when the new rain come and the new generation will pass to become the old.
It’s strange. To think that I am the new generation. These people I knew are leaving and I am already regretting. Death comes for us all and after that, we will not get a second chance. The time is now. We will not be able to come back once we are worm fodder in the ground.
I will miss you and remember you and pray for you. I know no other way. Drowning in mournful sighs would not please you. I will remember you.
As humans we are so fickle in our ways. We run, cowards, from death when we should be standing defiantly in it’s face. ‘You have followed me for every second of every day, yet today I go with the knowledge that there is nothing I can regret, nothing I would change, nothing that would make my life more then it was’. Instead, we build mountains of money, love, sex, rock and roll, in the hope that that day will not come, that we will not pass, never realising that running is not the answer. Cowardice. These riches and this greed will not help us. We will leave it behind to rot with us. The fear of the inevitable does not make it go away. It only makes us fools for living as if we will never die.

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4 thoughts on “I Mourn”

  1. I love this.

    It’s beautiful. The process within it. The awareness of loss, the first instances of impulsive regret, the remaining (broken) pieces, collecting them, moving on…and finally the philosophising of death.

    There is a great deal of personal presence in your writing, especially for a blog so anonymous.

    Thanks for sharing.

  2. Love the defiance in this poem, as much as the despair and regret. Two sides of the same damned coin… Will definitely keep tabs on your writing. I sometimes fear that my own poems are becoming redundant- the themes are reflections of where we are in our lives, yes? And I fear that I ramble on and on about the same things over and over again. Thank you for following my blog. May you NOT become bored. πŸ™‚ -Tina

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