I failed a man.
I didn’t cry at the news of his passing.
It felt so weird.
There was once a day when my heart
would‘ve broken and tears would have fallen.
Today I am sadden, but there’s a disconnect.
When did I detach myself from the emotions of grief?
You see, we go through this life knowing
death to be a common thing.
Some of us experience it more
than others, but it shouldn’t be so persistent.
Year after year, it rears its head,
Casting a shadows of grief.
Taking lives in manners beyond belief.
Have I become so use to death that it no
longer bothers me?
When I see the grim reaper,
Do I greet him and continue passing?
I no longer fear and tremble.
I am no longer frightened by the thought of
living without.
I’ve recounted the days spent with friends
and loved ones, yet I no longer feel anguish
for the memories I will no longer make.
My body has learned to cope,
while life’s voice begins to quieten.
You see, I’ve known death for quite some
time. I was born into it.
Death met me at my birth bed.
It knew me before I knew myself.
Death greeted me with a smile, before I had
knowledge of it.
It welcomed me into this world, knowing
it’d already took from me.
Death is neither friend nor fo, but
chooses to greet me with a smile and
kiss on the cheek.
It exists and I let it do its job without
emotional pull or resistance.
After years of experience, I’m not sure I
have anything left.
It’s been 27 years of sickness, disasters,
accidents, murders, and suicides.
How much is a person suppose to take?
Death once ripped opened my curtains,
today, it can’t tear down my walls.
I failed a man.
I didn’t cry at the loss of him.
I couldn’t feel at the knowledge of
his passing.
I have unique grief.
God, is there grace for me?