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The Farewell Continues


You had never a grown-up been
but all the world entirely seen
the great capacity of your mind
in a few poems you left behind

without a word, no clue foreseen
half-year before you turned eighteen
surrendered to the daily grind
no joy sun's rise or set did find

none of us that here remain
your secret heart we'd never gain
throughout the years that we have tried
countless tears we cannot hide

poetry gives no recompense
the gift of verse its only sense
this sorrow's only hope to mend
when our life's journey meets its end


Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Or the farewell that would not end. To a young poet that had gone before us in January 2005.
Editing stage: 


This poem means much as the person in the poem was personally known to me. It's okay that we write and feel for persons such as Thomas Chatterton but to have an experience so close as this brings it to a whole new level. You are much appreciated. CB

'Break, break break on thy cold grey stones, O Sea.'

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