Backbencher in grief schooling;
Never able to rationalize my loss;
Questioning pain as though life was
Just another dice's toss.
Whenever I thought of death
Or of people going away;
My breath stuck in my throat
And grief walked beside me that day.
I never learned the right way or the wrong way
Towards and away from loss;
I never thought it could be so hard:
I guess my learning was full of flaws.
