Time itself is slowly divorcing us

As surely our as familyship is

Every day will take longer to pass

In a silence leaving echoes that linger

And memories visit us more often

In a visual fashion, they were created

To accompany our ever-growing voids

Reminding us of what we no longer have

The world boldly creeps away from us

In a time past, life has nearly severed

As surely as if we too have already died

Our familial purpose no longer desired

Our sacrifices are no longer remembered

And our authentic love…disposed of


Poet of the Light © 2022   


5 thoughts on “Callousness

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