by Geoffrey Schmitt

Created on: December 01, 2009

What we do when things have died

Gone or broken caught in lies.

Refuse the pain is one we try.

More often all we do is cry,

Or yet again we may deny.

Then in anger ask why?

Hurt out loud, or shy

Away,hide the sigh

So softly no eye

Can see inside

It's only I

Alone I.

Until

With the will

Power we still

Have, we march up hill

Back from the depths until

Once more we are able to fill

Our sorry lives and feel the thrill

In the embrace of persons; take the quill

And write new chapters, sing new songs or trill

Upon the melodies of life once more, shout shrill

Halleluiah! We did not die, nor were we ground upon the mill

Of sadness. Broken, not defeated, moving forward though hurting still.

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