Grief
I cannot excise your pain,
The painful, pounding refrain,
The unmet need
Of a heart that bleeds.
I can only say I’m here
And wipe away a tear,
Or say that God is walking near —
The pain won’t disappear.
You will learn to carry it, accept it.
And through that burning, searing stab,
The mending bone, the itching scab,
You’ll know you lived and loved.
One day the wound will heal
And only leave a scar.
You’ll know that you are real,
That you have lived and loved.
clarakatalin 