a word I have never before used to describe actual grief

always keeping it abstract, in excess, never precise

while you thought, oh poor man what a waste he is

singing songs of love rhyming with bitter and stale

who is the ‘you’ in your poems?

lover extraordinary, beyond vile, an ideal fantasy?

desperate lazy yawns of insomnia, seeping in with morning light?

thoughts interspersed, meaning coerced in stylistic delight?

poetry without meaning, without metaphors that alight?

those who know what sighing is about, mix not it with what is writing for

grief grief grief abominable grief

waiting for relief, gone rusted are nerves of steel

if writing was a method to overcome grief, would it also alter belief

in using a word on repeat as an act of resilience to not deceive