Grief
written by: Franci Eugenia Hoffman
Unfortunately, it happens too much.
The morning sun slowly creeps
through my bedroom window.
I imagine waking to birdsong and
buzzing honey bees; scents of
fresh brewed coffee, hot cinnamon
buns, and you.
Instead, I wake to the weight of
unwanted dark, and sobering
memories of the past. My life’s
chapters, I wish I could
rewrite with happy endings.
Yet, I try to understand reality,
and the whys of happenstance.
“Why me?” I ask. My eyes red
and puffy from crying myself
to sleep.
The sun doesn’t shine anymore,
nor does the moon release its ethereal
glow. The darkness overwhelms me
to the point of exhaustion. This needs
to stop. “Why me?” I repeat over and
over again.
I feel cold and lifeless, since you’ve
been gone. Feelings of sadness and
anxiety overcome me while I stare at
tattered photos of you and me.
A slivered ray of sun catches my
attention and I dwell on the
ever-present grayish dust seemingly
filling my room.
I rise disturbed, and with determination,
I sweep for hours to rid the dust.
Feeling utterly broken, and no matter
how much I sweep, the grief remains.
The conniving dust shape shifts
into walls of heartbreak. “Why me? I ask.
Unfortunately, it happens too much.
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – The Weight We Carry
- Grief - June 3, 2026
- Tapestries of Tomorrow - April 30, 2026
- Pushing Past Life’s Struggles - March 31, 2026
