Comes Grief
comes grief, on
raw, barbed feet
laying in wait, till
vulnerability, at the apex
lays bare one’s soul
to blustery laments
to noisy, snotty bawls
till spent, grief
strolls off, happy to
have been of service
picture and poem (c) by DC Lessoway
Posted in: depression, grief
Excellent writing.
Too kind, thank you.