Widowed


My ring finger holds a secret

A lingering

To be remembered

Opposite side

It sits heavy

Where two worlds collide

My right hand is covered

But my ring finger died

There is no growing season

Twilight moons have become full blown

The growl in my aches have turned full grown

I am childlike from these moans

My pen and paper have turned stones

From the weight of this wind

And death has become my companion

Widowed

10 thoughts on “Widowed

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  1. Ooh, what a touching poem! I could feel the weight of your emotions as you wrote this. Quite sombre indeed. May the Supreme creator grant you favour and strength to stem all the tides of widowhood. πŸ˜’πŸ’πŸ’–πŸŒΊπŸ’–πŸ’

    1. Hi kind sir, it comes from a real place, just felt moved to jot it down last night. I pray the Supreme creator grants me favour again with the love gods, one day before I get old and wrinkled ❀

      1. He surely will. You’re still a fine young lady and this won’t wear you down if don’t allow it. This is part of life. You now just rise up and leap on. Thanks for sharing, it helps get rid of the emotions. You’re strong and resilient, you will write a story of victory that will inspire generations to come. ❀❀

  2. I lost my husband twenty years ago and was left with two children to finish raising. It was not easy. Your poem has the ring of authenticity. It took twelve years for me to finish the task of raising my children and begin to rebuild my life, but I am very happy now. Wishing you the best!

    1. Ohhh yes, this piece is definitely one written from experience, I wish I had not had to write it but this is my journey. I’m still in the stages of grief, I think, I question where I am mentally, often checking for stability. Thank you for commenting, it’s comforting to know there are those who have been on this crazy ride and came out on the other side “very happy”

      Thanks for visiting Cheryl β™₯️

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