The poetry of a sad muse

Those we Have Lost

Memorials for loved ones are sad.
Been to so many I can't even count.
Some of them I didn't know well.
But I hope they appreciate I still went.
Death is such a concept until you die
so peaceful.
So bittersweet.
Almost joyful when you get to heaven.
Will I go to heaven?
I have done a lot of wrong,
Seen a lot of wrongs,
And wished a lot of wrongs to happen.
Death has made me bitter,
Jaded,
Harden,
And made me filled with malice.
I don't have it in me to hate people I don't know.
I don't have time for people to be mean to each other.
People fear what they don't understand and that fear is what turns into hate.
Just imagine seeing from up above your body being buried six feet under,
Burned into ash,
Hell even compost for a tree.
No one understands until you see a body of a loved one In a casket or an urn to understand sadness to the full extent.
Grief stabbing you right in the heart.
Feeling guilty for moving on.
But keeping the memories of that person alive.
Until we meet again.