memories made of photographs(smudged with fingerprints)-pt.1

Submitted by jennifer on Fri, 01/11/2008 - 08:01

look out the window
and sample the sunshine.
children on bikes
and summer love stories.
they are unknowingly living life for you.
eyesight is drawn towards the phone
lifeless at the moment
labeling it with quiet insults, a bearer of bad news.
people you have never met and will never really know
give their apologies,
offering their sympathy.
if only that was a cure.
your mother continues to watch her cup of coffee cool.
the clock ticks.
and you swear it’s never been
so loud.

Author's age when written
17
Genre
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Comments

i like how i could visualize the poem, and how quiet
and sad it seemed at the same time.
great job, keep it up. (=

You did a great job capturing sorrow and portraying it in a new, original way. I hate how most people try to describe grief. It's a cliche. People don't cry, not all of us at least. Some of us can only stare out of the window and watch the cars go by for hours at a time, or watch our coffee cool. Thanks for putting words to these feelings. They help me understand my grief and give me the reassurance that others share similar feelings.

It's not a cliche in my writing or in my life. I know that I cry. Crying is a sort of release, not to the pain, but to anger and sadness. And after crying comes calmness.

But I understand what you're saying. It doesn't ALWAYS equal crying for EVERYONE. For the most part, not at all.

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief