PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Nowadays, we can’t talk to each other about what is on our minds,

We can’t talk about how you might get better.

We can’t talk about how there may someday be a cure for cancer.



You can’t tell me how you are so proud,

You can’t hug me and tell me that I’m your favorite (and only) daughter.

You can’t smile with that notorious grin, can’t even frown.



I can’t make up for not saying goodbye,

I can’t say that I don’t cry all the time,

Because that would be a lie.



You and I, we can’t take walks around the lake,

We can’t compete at Scrabble,

We can’t look through the dictionary for imaginary words.



I’m not capable of doing the extraordinary anymore,

I’m just average, no more.

I can’t gloat about being the top of my class anymore.



You can’t tell any more of your corny jokes,

I can’t laugh and pretend to think they are funny,

The whole family can’t even make the effort to smile.



It will have been a year this Tuesday,

But I can’t say that I don’t hurt,

Because the pain has yet to dull.



I can’t explain the feeling I get when I see a commercial about cancer,

Or hear about a possible new cure,

I can’t think enough about how I failed you.



I can’t tell myself that I am not to blame,

Perhaps I could have surmounted the impossible,

But instead I departed in shame.



There are not a lot of things I can do now that you are gone,

I can visit you, I can talk to you,

But your ashes are cold, your grave doesn’t respond.



I can’t say that I believe in God,

I can’t say that I did not try to,

But how can I believe?



I can’t say that I am not religious,

I can say that I’m not a reader of the Bible.

I can say that I believe you are in a better place.



Those you left behind can smile and act gaily,

But I can see the strife they still hold in their eyes,

Because I feel it, too.



I can stare up into the stars,

But not even all the shooting stars in the sky,

Have equaled the one wish I wish for.



Sometimes the sorrow fades to a memory of sorrow,

But the memory of sorrow itself never dies.

To say whether the sorrow still exists, I can not say.



I can’t say that you are still with us,

But I can say that the memory of you and everything you were,

Is still embedded in my heart.