206 posts
  • kevinosullivan 6w

    Happy Easter Mother

    You've been gone a few years now.
    My tears are still fresh around Sunday.
    While finances were always sparse.
    We would all try to get you Lillies.
    Without a headstone or even gravesite.
    A son doesn't continue on this tradition.
    Just another reminder of temporal cycles.
    Here today in full bloom while living life.
    Gone to fertil dust in the soil and sea.
    Energy remains where memories weep.
    Happy Easter Mother

  • evelovestar 17w

    I find myself writing a mourning card today to the fiancee of a lovely 49 year old lady who has passed away. It's difficult and there's nothing you can say in this situation. I obviously don't like the cookie cutter and meaningless I'll keep you in my thoughts and prayers that people say when they don't know what to say so I wrote this poem that explains what I feel at the moment. This is dedicated, with Love to the lovely Sam.
    #mourning #whattosay #mourningcard #mourningpoem

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    Sympathy/ Mourning card poem

    There's nothing I could say
    That could take the pain away
    That you feel today.
    I send you my Love and pray
    That God will send your way
    The healing and blessings you deserve.


  • kevinosullivan 25w

    A Shrouded Cloak

    The traumas of loving lives on past death.
    Sure we all know that death is inevitable but we all trudge on.
    We live scattered, hidden and distracted lives; consumed by the trivial and mundane.
    We try to pretend, we try to forget, we try to heal.
    Few truly know us but our mothers and lovers.
    It is sometimes hard to love us, sometimes painful and jagged to watch us falling.
    So the traumas live on in the pall of a loved ones death.
    A shrouded cloak woven through our collective fabric of time, connecting us all.
    My mourning tears shed at the news of a strangers death; for I have known love and death.
    A mother's young adult daughter and only child, gone in her prime.
    A veil of darkness will obstruct that loving light once more, and on again.
    This is the way, and we will all face the harrowing path, bearing the burdens of loving, trauma and loss.

  • aadil_sadiq 27w

    Har Ankh Nam, Har dil-e veran, Aur Har Ujde Chaman Ka Insaaf Hoga,
    Jo Haal Firaun Ka Hua Tha wahi Anjam Firaun Kay Lashkar Ka b hoga.
    Randon thought #burningparadise #Kashmir #killings #wails #sobs #tears #cries #mourning #Kashmir #tehreek @writersnetwork @mirakeeworld @miraquill #pod

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    ہر نم آنکھ، ہر دلِ ویران اور ہر اجڑے چمن کا انصاف ہوگا،

    جو حال فرعون کا ہوا تھا وہی انجام فرعون کے لشکر کا بھی ہوگا۔

    صوفی عادل صادق قادری

  • averagewhiteman 27w

    The least judgmental and most empathetic man I've ever known. My grandad was a truly beautiful man.
    Alan Gibbins 1927 - 2021

    #death #mourning #grandfather

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    A Beautiful Man

    Such a beautiful man,
    The Father of my mother.
    A Brother of many,
    And a man like no other.
    You held my hand tight,
    When you were a giant to me.
    And I held your hand in mine,
    As you passed into memory.
    So leave the pain behind,
    And know that you are missed.
    Sleep peacefully dear grandad,
    And pass into the mist.
    But who can I talk to.,
    When I need someone to understand?
    Who will I turn to,
    Without this beautiful man?


  • loftydreams101 36w

    A True Love's Deep Slumber

    Laughter sails into the mist
    Giving way to church bells
    Ringing over silent acres of stone
    Cold and bloodshot stares
    Live in warm summers past
    Turned away from the agony
    Of their desolate march
    The trail sways in song
    Toward the earth’s black wound
    Slow and steady in denial
    Of their truest love lost

    © 2021 William Wright, Jr.

  • nightpen 37w

    A Real Ghost

    Dad's birthday was yesterday
    All I know is he seems alive to this day
    Yes he is gone but I'm haunted in a unique way
    I miss him as I waste the days away
    His ghost is either here or me
    His ghost is real

  • isalittlebroken 42w

    Ashes to Ashes

    How humbling it is to hold human ashes 
    in your hand.
    A person you used to know,
    cast to the sea in a pillowed cloud of white dust.
    Her spirit leaving us
    to rest forevermore 
    in azure waters 
    She adored.

    (Cast my Aunt and her daughter's ashes into the ocean today.) RIP 6/8/21

  • winnahwrites 46w


    Years down but tears ain’t dry
    Tender I was, but death did it’s work
    Memories of you sticks in forever
    A very strong man but down beneath.


  • brokengypsysoul 46w

    "You should consider abortion as there is a high chance your child will be deformed."
    She was broken and hurting; she didn't want to accept this news
    So many conflicting emotions, pulling her back and forth
    Sickness plagued her fueling her depression
    Finally realising the severity of the matter...she made the hospital appointment.

    One morning after a helpful doctors consult, she decides, "I'm going to keep this baby."
    I don't care; I will love and look after my baby no matter what
    The thought of abortion killed her inside
    She went home after taking the doctors advice for anti-nausea remedies
    She was hopeful, finally accepting, excited to be a mum again
    She knocked on the door, her sister comes to unlock the door and greet her
    The girl looks down and does her sister, shock sets in
    Red blood, lots of it, they look at each other in despair

    First, she had to accept that she had an unwell child, that she may lose the child, or have to make that decision herself. Once accepting to love this child no matter what, she had to accept that he was now gone.

    The nurse had to retrieve the baby from the toilet
    She was unable to look at him, not wanting to accept her reality but asked to keep him

    She sits, and she mourns with her delicate baby in his tiny coffin
    The deformed reality of her baby sinks in; she only wanted to love him
    Heartbroken, seeing this incomplete child that she so desperately realised she wanted
    She then had to accept his fate was never in her hands

    Life is a rollercoaster of emotions; you only realise what you have until it is gone; once you accept something painful, life changes.

    It hurts. It's unfair. It is a process of emotions but accepting reality is the only way to live in the present

    #pregnancy #loss #abortion #miscarriage #mourning #acceptance #love #storyofloss #hurt #heartbreak #sad #sadstory #sadpost #learning #greif #hurts #unfair #cruelworld #lost #mystory #storyofmylife #trigger #triggerwaring #accept #livelife #lovelife #loveourchildren #nohate #benice #imsad

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    Trigger warning bellow, ft pregnancy and miscarriage

    Read the story bellow


  • bandile 46w

    Mrs. Meyer

    Too much sorrow to comprehend.
    I find myself asking when will be the end?
    Hear this..Your cheerful spirit is what everyone will miss .
    Even when your body grew weak.
    Your joy was some how at its peak.
    You turned this affliction of slavery into a great act of bravery.
    Peace be with you.
    I will miss all your references to.. Winnie the Pooh.

  • burried_thoughts 45w

    An ode to you, who won't come back

    It's been 7 years since you left....
    And i am grieving for your lose now after all these years;
    Everybody say that I am your favorite, alas I was able to realise it then
    Then I was a kido who wanted prove myself strong infront of all others, wearing a stone face and numbness to push away people.
    That day i was confused myself why am I not able to cry for your lose ?
    But today when i face the reality that you have left us and won't come back,
    Alas I grieve today, that I could have given you a little more than the prayers, a little more love......to bid you farewell !

    #grief #mourning #farewell #regret #funeral
    #goodbye #pain
    @miraquil @miraquilian @writersnetwork

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    Alas I grieve today, that I could have given you a little more than the prayers, a little more love......to bid you farewell !


  • suchismita13 48w


    That night when I didn't sleep,
    anticipating that I could squeeze some more time to live .
    But then I thought to end that sleepless night
    Closed my eyes to dream a world of delight.

    Just then we heard a knock,
    It was hour before the daylight struck.
    We saw you were struggling  to breathe
    We tried to get help but didn't succeed.

    You were gone by now
    hardly did we realize that you will leave us alone.
    That day, standing on your grave ,
    Few cried and few pretend to be strong and brave.

    It was becoming unbearable not because that the day was rough
    But because the burden of your loss was fresh and tough.
    All of a sudden everything was irrelevant
    There was pause and silence which was different.

    We know , you are in a journey to live a new life
    Wish you are always happy and god give us strength to survive.
    Memories we made together will always be there
    At times it will make us happy and at times we would cry in despair .

    They say time is a healer it will heal us all,
    It gets better if not sooner but later.
    In that anticipation , we'll  thrive and survive.


  • serenarose 48w


    The sun will rise
    Without regard
    To the lingering darkness-
    I hope someday to do the same

  • bushbaby 48w

    death of a loved one

    Your hands were cold
    Your eyes had drifted close,
    There were two of us,
    But I knew I was alone.

    I battled against numbness;
    Our memories too valuable for me to lose.
    I sent my happiness after you;
    You were free of needles, of pills,
    And stubbornly silent rooms.
    You stood beside me as I said goodbye,
    Lingering even as the saintly shroud signalled the end of the rites;
    But your face was that of a stranger,
    Hauntingly severe, and utterly indifferent to my cries.
    Even my senses turned against me;
    Testifying for wishes that never solidified.
    And I disowned my faith,
    Guilty of using it to feed on lies.

    Regret proved loyal:
    Fiercely guarding me from Sleep,
    Time who raced to the finish line when you remained with me,
    Slowed down, in an ironic show of pity.
    I investigated into your case,
    Desperate for inconsistencies in your love for me;
    For reality came with an unbearable ache,
    The reality that you could never be replaced.

    Time picked up his pace once again,
    I covered my ears and played blind,
    When he pointed to the road ahead;
    For I still clung to you,
    However stranger to me you grew.
    And although Time may continue on his course,
    Grief had become a friend,
    And Living had become a foe.


  • kevinosullivan 53w

    Springtime for Dave

    Rusting lilacs, loosing scent as Memorial Day comes
    The golden pollen dust covers recently washed cars
    And from the air, echos concerts of songbirds singing
    Our house plants get moved out for porch sunning
    Life and death cycles where harmony surrounds us
    Still saddens our hearts when one close ceases to be
    Never to smell, see, hear or touch as we do today
    In mourning, with mortality alone I sit, thinking of you
    Rest easy Dave, your troubled soul will be missed


  • samanthaharper 53w


    I can smell it in the air, the warmth of summer mixing with spring. I smell that is so hard to explain. But it's a smell that reminds me of up. The way you'd smile and open all the windows saying how summer was on its way or how today would be like a summer's day. But with this weather brings another smell that brings warmth to my heart and years to my eyes. The smell of lilacs. For as long as I can remember you would always get excited over this time of year going for walks so you could feel the sun on your skin and stop by to smell the beautiful small purple flowers that you could smell a block away. You would always smile and say how you loved them and with a smile on my face I'd pick some so I'd see the look of happiness and love. The apartment would smell like lilacs for days and everyday you would smell them saying how much you loved them. And everytime you would look at me with such love and that smile that was so rare. That I couldn't help but smile back. The only thing I wanted was to see that smile on your face and feel you hug me tightly.  Now that you are no longer here the seasons are no longer the same and don't hold the same joy. But I opened the windows and the familiar smell blew in filling the room with a feeling of comfort as I saw a memory of you at the table drinking your coffee and smiling as you looked out the window. So though it was painful it also brought me comfort. And as I walked outside I stopped as tears ran down my eyes as I could smell lilacs stronger than I ever had. And I feel that it was you. Now I have liacs in my room and everytime I'm hit with their fragrance I'm reminded of you. And with tears in my eyes I smile because they remind so much of you. 

    And I know you are letting me know that you are still here.

    I love you mom.

  • sushmithasdas 54w


    A sacred river,
    with thousand lifeless bodies on its bed,
    mourn over the lost sons of the soil.
    Far away in the heartland,
    fire rages,
    dancing on pyres,
    while every soul awaits salvation.

    Oh, the pawns in the game of power,
    tainted by crimson murder,
    hear the creeping echoes of silence,
    for once, see through the false mirror.
    The ravens are here,
    calling the curse of war.

  • pallavi4 57w


    It was several decades ago
    Since he was last here
    Even now he felt the same nervousness
    And anxiety filled with latent fear

    This was where she lived
    He hadn’t seen her in a very long time
    His palms were all sweaty
    His throat slowly filled with bile

    The town reminded him of her
    Her subtle presence was everywhere
    In the rustle of the autumn leaves
    Even in the beguiling scent of the air

    He’d carried a polaroid picture of her
    Around in his wallet for several decades
    Thankful to have something of her with him
    To keep her in his mind - a helpful aid

    Now that he was to meet her
    He was both edgy and elated
    He approached her wooden gate and thought
    To be together they’d always been fated

    The door opened when he rang the bell
    It was strangely silent outside
    When he asked for her, he was told
    It had been two days since she died

    Not sure if it was the chill in the wind
    Or the one inside his broken heart
    Instead of her, he was shown her grave
    Forever she had depart

    He sat by her grave and wept
    Tears of love, longing and pain
    He had remained unwed all these years
    For him there wouldn’t be another ever again


    21st of April, 2021

    Pic credit: Pinterest, picture credited to its rightful owner

    Reposted from 25th of December, 2020

    #polaroidc #polaroid #writersbay @writersbay #stories_in_poems #sad_poems #death #mourning #grave @writersnetwork #writerstolli #writersnetwork #mirakee #mirakeeworld #readwriteunite #thepoetrycommunity #poetry #pod #writerscommunity @mirakee

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  • joybirdpoetry 104w

    The Mourning Room

    She sits and studies the barely there stain on the wall,
    just a shade darker than the duck egg blue that had been
    selected after such agonising indecision
    anxiety hammering against her ribcage
    as she applied its harmony blue hue to the tongue and groove
    that seemed to mock her in vertical pantomime laughter.
    She wishes she had taken heed of their cautionary parody,
    now paid the penalty (had known it was inevitable),
    recounting the thud of her head against the boards
    not unlike the thump that is made when the kids toss
    in restless slumber and kick the wall.
    And now this badge of dishonour left behind to remind of her
    of how wrong the tint had been, stupid woman.
    Would any colour have been right?
    Her fingers tap an involuntary SOS on the tabletop,
    where her third child had been unwillingly conceived
    upon its cold hard marble surface
    only to be knocked out of her and carried away
    to the floor on which it stood.
    Crimsy posy patterns against porcelain Italian tiles,
    departed before it had barely begun
    its tiny embryonic heartbeat grieved for just the same.
    She draws in deeply on her cigarette,
    serpentine swirls of smoke reaching upwards
    to the pendant light emitting its soft radiant glow
    trying to deceive her into thinking that this contemporary room
    with its granite benchtops and stainless steel affluence
    was the model family kitchen.
    Of wafting biscuits baking and children’s animated chatter
    and not as she knew it to really be.
    This room of two minute pleasure and decade long pain.
    Her gaze fixated on the stain.