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Alice J. Wisler is an author, public speaker, advocate, and fundraiser. She has been a guest on several radio and TV programs to promote her self-published cookbooks, Slices of Sunlight and Down the Cereal Aisle. She graduated from Eastern Mennonite University and has traveled the country in jobs that minister to people. Alice was raised in Japan and currently resides in Durham, North Carolina. Read more…

Poetry Categories: Anxiety & DepressionCaregiving / HospiceChild LossEstate PlanningFunerals ■ Parent LossPet LossSibling LossSpirit & SoulSpousal LossSuicideThe Afterlife ■ The Grieving ProcessViolent & Sudden Death

 

Grief Poems
25th of December
Written by Cindy Adkins   
Sunday, 27 September 2009 06:30

The 25th of December, 1980 was the year, came the birth of a child,
who gave the Adkins much cheer.
Christopher was the name given to the boy, which gave this family so much joy.
He grew up so quickly, as all of them do, he seemed to keep growing,
he grew and he grew.
At a very young age, a man he did grow,
with a heart the same size, we all learned to know.
Anything with two to four wheels he loved to play,
to go hunting or fishing, away he would stray.

The 9th of June 2002 was that fateful day, when God decided to take Chris away.
No pain did he feel, as in his hands God did hold, this very big man, so happy and bold.
"A Guardian Angel, I make this one today,"
least I suspect, is what God had to say.
So when things get tough and are hard to bear, close your eyes, and Chris will be there.
With a "Dew" in his hand and that big, ol' grin on his face,
with us all, in our hearts, is now his place.

Copyright © 2003 by Cindy Adkins. All rights reserved.

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Dear God
Written by Cherry   
Sunday, 14 June 2009 14:23

I have my issues as you can see.
But it seems as though you're not looking out for me.

I know in my heart it's all in my head
and I try to forget as I lay in my bed.

I don't feel good, I think Satan is trying to get to me
But I tell him "God will help, you will see."

God, I know how many people pay
but most of them have to pay.

You try your best I know that's true
and there's so many things you must do.

So hear my prayer as I speak to you
I need some help, as much as you could do.

I hurt so bad down deep inside
and no one knows but it's getting harder to hide.

So i ask you once more to please help me
I know you will try, I'll just wait and see.

I feel as though I'm living in hell
but I'm not sure, it's really hard to tell.

I know I sin, yes I do
but I ask for forgiveness from you.

So please help me as I lay here and cry
and feel as though I should curl up and die.

Please once more, and thank you in advance,
for helping me and giving me a chance.

Copyright © 2003 Cherry. All rights reserved.

About the Author: I am 15 years old and attending Lee Senior High School. I love to write poems in my spare time and most of them are sad. This poem is about me, a young girl who can't deal with life without the help of God.

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In Loving Memory Of Justin W. Boos
Written by Lisa Keefer   
Monday, 01 December 2008 10:55

This is a poem dedicated to a good friend of mine, Justin, who was killed 5/6/2003 in a motorcycle accident at the age of 18.

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This Candle In Memory of You
Written by William T. Patterson, Jr.   
Monday, 22 October 2007 12:22

As I light this candle in memory of you I still remember the awful pain of losing you. Though you are gone from my sight, deep in my heart your flame will always burn bright. My eyes are often filled with tears but not as much as they were in those first few days.

When I close my eyes I can still see your smile and hear your laugh as I think of you. As I now stare at the flame of the candle I can see images of you dancing in the light. So as the flame burns brighter so shall my love be even stronger for the rest of my days.

Copyright © William T. Patterson, Jr. 12/2001. All rights reserved.

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Moments To Remember
Written by Steve Goodier   
Monday, 22 October 2007 12:09

We do not remember days, we remember moments.

In their book Spiritual Literacy (Touchstone Books, 1998), authors
Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat tell about Oggie Rand. He manages a
cigar store in Brooklyn. Oggie has an unusual habit - at precisely
eight o'clock each morning, he photographs the front of the store from
exactly the same spot. He collects his daily snapshots in photograph
albums, each labeled by date. He calls his project his "life's work."

One day Oggie showed his albums to a friend. Flipping the pages of the
albums, the man noticed in amazement that the pictures were all the
same! Oggie watched him skim through the pictures and finally replied,
"You'll never get it if you don't slow down, my friend. The pictures
are all of the same spot, but each one is different from every other
one. The differences are in the detail. In the way people's clothes
change according to season and weather. In the way the light hits the
street. Some days the corner is almost empty. Other times it is filled
with people, bikes, cars and trucks. It's just one little part of the
world, but things take place there, too, just like everywhere else."

This time Oggie's friend looked more carefully at each picture. No two
were alike. He slowly became aware of how unique every moment is.
Through a series of photographs, he became conscious of one of life's
great truths -- that each minute that passes is special, even sacred!

Writer Henry Miller has said, "The moment one gives close attention to
anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome,
indescribably magnificent world in itself." But we'll never get it if
we don't slow down. For it is these moments -- not whole days, weeks,
months or years -- that we will finally remember. Whatever happiness
and joy is to be found in life will be found in the moments.

Pay as close attention to each moment as you can, as if you were
carefully observing a series of snapshots. Don't rush through them,
allowing your mind to jump so far ahead that the present is lost. Each
is unique. Each is sacred. And each holds a special place in time. In
the end, it is these moments you will cherish and remember.

About the author:  Steve Goodier is a professional
speaker, consultant and author of numerous books

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An Angel is Forming
Written by Emily Amero   
Friday, 19 October 2007 12:00

When I see your face, I can't stop crying
If I said I was okay, I'd be lying
I look at you now and wonder what went wrong
I know you don't have all that long

As hard as it will be, you'll be happier up there
You have earned all your feathers to get up in the air
My time with you has been a lot of fun
But now I realize it is all done

I couldn't change this no matter how hard I tried
One day you will move away and be with family
In your bed you would have died
Be happy then and put all bad thoughts aside.

About the author: Emily is 13 years old and after seeing her Grandpa in palliative care needed to write this song.
Copyright: November 18, 2002 Emily Amero

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James
Written by Alicia M. Glunt   
Thursday, 18 October 2007 16:30
The heavy smell smacked me
As I walked into the small house
Yellowed walls and faded furniture
Crowded the tiny room.

Sitting on the couch
Was a tiny withered man
Worn by age and ready
To move on.

The wrinkles on his face
Framed his dark brown eyes
Each wrinkle earned and
Each with its own story.

Tired limbs hung
From this antique burdened body
Once part of a whole
Now only a fraction of what was.

Health seemed to fade in
And out of the room
Yearning for both comfort
And for life.

I left not knowing
Which would conquer
Realizing what I have
Left to spend.

About the author: I am a Senior at Robert Morris University in Pittsburgh, PA.  I wrote this poem about a man I took care of, I work as a care giver, never knowing if my patients will live from day to day.
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When Friends Go To Heaven
Written by Lisa Clark   
Thursday, 18 October 2007 16:25

They do not go alone
cause when friends go to heaven
part of us goes along.

When friends go to heaven,
our memories here remain
when friends go to  heaven,
its our plan to meet again.

When friends go to heaven,
silently our hearts and souls do cry
for when friends go to heaven
there isn't an answer to why.

They never really leave us
they are in are hearts to stay
when our friends go to heaven,
they never really go away.

Article Summary: In memory of friends lost much to early in life.

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Silence
Written by T. Arms   
Thursday, 18 October 2007 16:11
The phone rings
A fimiliar voice there
Hello I love you see you soon I hear
Silence

The sound of tires screaching
The sound of glass breaking
The sudden stop
Silence

The phone rings
A fimiliar voice there
Hello did you hear
Silence

The sudden shock
The blood curdling screams
The disbelief
The pain
Silence

A single red rose
A gapeing hole
A few nice words
Silence

Time will heal they say
Hope your doing ok
Anytime you need us we are here
Silence

About the author:  I am 30 years old from Tennessee.  My boyfriend was killed in a car accident this is just my feelings.
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Other People's Grief
Written by Emily Spitler   
Monday, 21 May 2007 20:24

This is not my grief.
Not my loss that filled the room and
brought all of these strangers together.
Not my sadness that swells
and crescendos and speaks
through the eyes of the affected.
I am silent, muted, powerless
in the face of so strong a sorrow
that I only share second hand and
cannot really comprehend. My meager words
would be paltry, my presence
seems a defamation, so I hide my face
and turn away from other people's grief.

Copyright © 2002 by Emily Spitler. All rights reserved.

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Hope & Healing
Written by Sherry Nixon   
Friday, 29 December 2006 15:22

H ope and healing for a brighter tomorrow
O vercoming pain and conquering sorrow
P raying to our Father for comfort and peace
E ducating one another, that our fears might cease

A ssurance that you will never walk alone
N eeds being met, as close as the phone
D eveloping an alliance for battles to come

H umbly giving our best to honor the Son
E mbracing the precious gift of each day anew
A ppreciating blessings we were once blind to
L iving for the moment, loving all we can
I magining our role in God's perfect plan
N ever underestimating the power of the soul
G iving it to God, for He is in control

Copyright © 2001 Sherry Nixon. All rights reserved.

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