Ripples of Grief
A poem is a ripple
From a wave called grief
Never perfect with its order
But almost constant with its beat
One after another
I see them surge into the shore
Some can be seen clearly
But others vanish just before
If they only slightly touch
I hear a whisper of a rhyme
I don’t even try to write them
Because they'll build if given time
The strong ones crash against me
With a force that makes me write
Once down they then recede
And give me peace for just one night
No matter what I try
The waves they never truely cease
The ripples always changing
Small expressions of my grief
poem by Haley Akin
Added by Poetry Lover
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