The thing about grief is |
It knows what I did and |
It knows what I did not say. |
It sentenced me to a life of excavating |
thing's my little head can not understand |
But I patched it all together with string andn rubber bands. |
The thing about grief is |
Few people know that the I goes before the E |
And it's hard to give away because it's |
The last thing you gave to me. |
I've scrambled it together and |
Collaged it in a lighted frame |
Sometimes I'm scared to speak your name. |
Ooh you were young a beautiful |
You should have grown to be old |
Like I'll grow old - no you will not. |
You left me here to join the dots |
I'm gonna speak them. |
The thing about grief is |
It took what I loved and it buried her deep away. |
It makes no sense but it's interesting in it's own way. |
Some days I still assume I'm gonna see your face again |
But I always assume. |
The thing about grief is |
It gets kind've boring for the |
People who don't yet know. |
Your friends - some they will wander off and |
Most will wish you'd just move on sister. |
But black is the colour 'cause it |
Doesn't seem to have an end |
I've heard it changes and |
You'll make new friends. |
Oooh - you were young a beau-ti-ful. |
You should have grown to be old |
I will grow old, no you will not. |
You left me here to join the dots. |
I'm gonna speak them. |
Written by grief
Submitted on: October 25, 2019
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