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The Little Things

Contributed by Steve_Ralph on Friday, 12th July 2002 @ 01:15:36 PM in AEST
Topic: Grief




I want to go out and get so plastered,
I want to drunk as I can get,
To drown my sorrows in a bottle,
To see if it helps me forget,

See if it can stop me crying,
Make me feel like I don’t care,
Forget the way she used to kiss me,
The way the wind blew through her hair,

To see if I can lose her memory,
In the bottom of a glass,
Then go home and burn her pictures,
It hurts to see her photographs,

Throw out the things that might remind me,
She was mine for fifty years,
Lock myself away from family,
I don’t want them to see my tears,

The doctors say she didn’t suffer,
Death came quick, she felt no pain,
She looked so well, gave not an inkling,
That a tumour grew beside her brain,

One minute we were in the kitchen,
Drinking coffee, folding sheets,
I said I was feeling hungry,
I might make something to eat,

I turned around just for a moment,
When I turned back she’d passed away,
On the floor she lay before me,
Still and silently she lay,

It’s strange the things that you remember,
As your world falls at your feet,
I recall the coffee tasting,
Just a little bit too sweet,

The way the toast popped in the toaster,
At the same time as she fell,
Turning round for no good reason,
What made me turn I cannot tell,

There was no sound, no sudden movement,
Why I turned I can’t explain,
Almost like something had warned me,
That my world was about to change,

For a while I stood in silence,
Not believing she was dead,
Convinced myself she’s only sleeping,
No-matter what the doctor said,

Then suddenly this sense of anger,
How dare she leave me all alone,
For fifty years I’ve loved that woman,
For all those years she’s shared my home,

Everything we’ve done together,
Rarely have we been apart,
I can’t imagine life without her,
She’s always been here in my heart,

Now suddenly she’s gone forever,
There’s only me we had no kids,
All these years I’ve been so certain,
That I would die before she did,

We used to joke about my insurance,
How when I went she’d take a cruise,
Find herself a nice young toy-boy,
To keep her happy and amused,

Now suddenly it’s not so funny,
I search the house but she’s not there,
I keep expecting that I’ll see her,
Sitting in the fire side chair,

Her perfume lingers in the bedroom,
Throughout the house, both up and down,
I fancy that I hear her call me,
But she’s not there when I look around,

Night time makes the days seem easy,
That is when I miss her most,
Damn, but I can’t help but cry,
Each time I see a piece of toast,

Or get the smell of fresh made coffee,
I shiver as I fold the sheets,
They’re the little things that happened,
The day my world fell at my feet,

The little things that still remind me,
How she looked before she died,
How the world seemed so much brighter,
While she was walking by my side.

By S.E.Ralph

1-6-2002




Copyright © Steve_Ralph ... [ 2002-07-12 13:15:36]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: The Little Things (User Rating: 1 )
by ThornMEngla on Saturday, 13th July 2002 @ 04:05:20 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
This is such a sad poem, yet written so beautifully!


Re: The Little Things (User Rating: 1 )
by lilch4ever on Sunday, 6th April 2003 @ 01:40:11 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Wow so sad. I could feel your pain as though its my own. I believe you'll get though it. Good luck to you.




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