Brokenness

By    

It really gets harder with every visit made. You have to reach out and touch a stone, look up and talk to the sky, Not caring if people think your crazy because you are talking to cement in a cemetery. The flowers are never good enough cause she was way more than some plastic flowers that I can never get perfect. Perfection is not even no where near when I’m done. but after meltdowns and trying to make it as beautiful as her, there is no damn way, she was my perfectly imperfect heart, my mommy, she was the light of my life. Time should be cherished, it doesn’t last forever.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem