Ever feel the weight of life’s fleeting thread,
The way it twists, unravels, breaks instead?
A path once clear, now shrouded, strange,
Life’s gentle rhythm undone by change.
I lost you both, my anchors, my light,
Mom on a cold November night.
Dad followed two years, a fleeting span,
Leaving me to grasp who I am.
Grief is no friend; it gnaws and stays,
A thief of color, a thief of days.
A quake within, half sadness, half glee,
The ground unsteady beneath me.
Mom, we fought, we laughed, we cried,
Your love a bond, though sometimes denied.
You worked, you dreamed, you made a way,
But left too soon, your plans in sway.
Dad, my champion, so guarded, yet kind,
With hands that taught and words that shined.
Your quiet strength, your secret pain,
Gone too quickly, like a fleeting rain.
No more calls, no hugs, no face to see,
Only echoes of what used to be.
I run to the door, hope in my chest,
But silence answers.. no one’s left.
Still, through the cracks, the light creeps in,
A reminder of where we’ve been.
You taught me love, you taught me grace,
To rise, rebuild, and take my place.
Though your absence lingers, sharp and deep,
I carry your dreams, your love, to keep.
Porcelain cracks, yet I remain,
Pieced together through joy and pain.
For in this life, I’ll honor your name,
Live unbroken, through grief’s cruel flame.
Somewhere, you watch, your pride my guide,
Your love, my solace, though worlds divide.
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