These pews don’t lend themselves to private grief.
A well of tears leaks down my cold, cold cheeks.
Her family must be wondering who we are.
Strangers treading on their private sorrow.
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A magnificent display of figurative language used here, from the title to the closing lines, this poem connects with the reader on many levels. A well crafted, tender poem. S :)
There is only on word for this poem full of feeling... Brillant... Colin J...10
a true poem.. full of emotion and thought..wonderful work
Well Done Janet, You explained vividly the many thoughts that goes through mind during this very quite time.