Burying Our Young
When did young girls' crying replace the wails of church mothers?
When were balding pallbearers replaced with young men in ill-fitting suits?
When did the young become the bowed heads and shuffling feet?
When did boys take on the burden of carrying the dead?
When did the funeral procession become familiar?
When did we exchange obitutaries for class pictures?
When did burying our young and witnessing
this untimely death become routine?
Prompt #8 for PAD is routine
8 comments:
Wow.
Give thanks for this, Black-eyed Susan.
1Love,
Geoffrey
Nice stuff. All your poetry month stuff has been strong.
Hope I didn't offend with last week's 3WW. It started off as a story I did long ago about meth addicts.
Thom, no you didn't offend and I were offended that would have been my issue not yours. I love your writing and appreciate your concern. Ah, meth. That was another relative. Your description fits better for that. I'll be by today. Hope you didn't think my absence was because of the story. I'm just trying to keep up with NaPoWriMo.
Oh, this is heavy! So sad!
Thanks for leaving comments for my kids. They couldn't wait to get home and read them!
This is so powerful, so sad, so beautiful. Thank you for sharing it.
I'm really glad I decided to try this again this year after failing last year. The message here has been with me a long time. The poem is rough and I know it needs work but when a draft at its core says what I'm trying to say, I know it's worth revision.
Yes. This is a keeper. I especially liked "When did we exchange obitutaries (sic) for class pictures?" Great work you are doing.
I really enjoyed the commentary of this poem. I've wondered this for some time. I've experienced these things first hand in high school, with classmates dying during high school and in the first years of college. Its a sad statement on what the world has become.
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