I have seen Death rear its ugly head too many times

I have witnessed enough fleeting lives

I have seen too much pain to be able to be strong in Death’s face

I have seen too many people finish last in His race

.

You’d think after six times of pain I’d be used to it,

I’d know how to deal with it,

I’d know the right words to say to assuage the pain.

But conversation just gets in the way, words just can’t battle aches.

There’s too much discretion and tiptoeing around here.

No one knows what to say

Because there is nothing to say.

.

How much can be held in suppression and then sealed?

I’ll make a confession and say I don’t know how to heal.

They say each expression of grief is justified and real.

But my many questions leave me mystified and unsure what to feel.