A Dark Mirror
I knew old people
Who were lively,
Filled with laughter,
Youthful, fun.
Promised myself I would be one.
How hard can it be
To just keep being who you are
As the years pass by.
But that was not an option.
Funerals change you.
Your grandparents,
Your aunts and uncles,
Dozens of your classmates,
All of them are gone.
Both of your parents,
Three of your best friends,
Your sister,
Your own child,
Are gone,
And you cannot be who you were.
Little laughter is left in you,
Little impulse for fun,
And you wonder how shallow
One would have to be
To be light-hearted now.
You cannot reflect a light
That no longer shines on you.
13 thoughts on "A Dark Mirror"
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That’s so on point. Hugs to you.
This is heartbreaking and so raw, but also so beautifully written. Your last two lines alongside the title are perfect.
Thank you!
Hi Good to meet you. Let me respond to this so well-written poem by 1st saying I am age 74.5 & while both my grands &parents & 2uncles have passed, there’ve been blessedly few other mourning times for me. BUT, living with brittle Type 1 Diabetes, I’ve had to confront death almost every day of my life…TOO, “They” say, people pick a year they liked & stay there. I’m thus 32. & with my joyful soul + still DEEP married love after 43 yrs, supportive happiness keeps reign here. May greater blessings of happiness be yours!
Thank you, Sally. My wife and I have been together almost 49 years, and clinging to each other in hard times helps.
“you wonder how shallow
One would have to be
To be light-hearted now. ”
Those lines echo in many ways.
But there’s deep, honorable truth in the experience shared here.
Thank you for this grounded examination of the human condition. Yes. Funerals can change you!
Thank you for your thoughtful response.
Heartbreaking and honest.
“Funerals change you.”
“And you wonder how shallow
One would have to be
To be light-hearted now. “
Thank you.
I can deeply feel the cognitive dissonance of feeling joy and pain simultaneously, how to put one away to give the other a turn.
Thank you, my friend!
And you cannot be who you were, but you are still who you are. Love this, Wayne – the toll suffering takes on joy
Thank you, Liz