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