Poetry: Grief

Grief runs heavy and thick

Like treacle or molasses

Sticky in the mind

Intrusive and encumbering

Throw myself towards it

Break into and through it

Broken pieces of a jigsaw puzzle

That reform and reshape

Belief in self, world and future

Beck and call on me

If you need a hand

I’d like to help

I’d like you to be okay

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s