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to steve

it’s not because i don’t know how to cry
i do
it’s not because i have a heart which cannot pump tears
i do

the crying comes when least expected
it jumps out of the speeding train and tumbles
like the moon

the crying comes when the fugue finds resolution
declaring itself with teeth clenched and fists
to hold the pain

i have never cried for you my beloved friend
not because i do not know how to

i have not cried for you because i cannot accept
that you are gone

Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

A very beautifully crafted piece, and believable, I had a best friend who passed away at a shockingly young age, I loved her so much, I cried for 5 months in a row, but her husband who is also a very close friend never has, I often wonder how can it be and I think you have just answered my question
(that I never asked) because I didn't want to know the answers probably. But your poem has answered it for me. Your tenderness is raw in this poem. And thank you I feel soothed.

Thank you...Teddy

the worst of it is; that the tears won't come when they expect them and no one thinks you care. A soul-rending piece of work here. ~ Geez.
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Found this portion particularly poetic,,

"the crying comes when least expected
it jumps out of the speeding train and tumbles
like the moon

the crying comes when the fugue finds resolution
declaring itself with teeth clenched and fists
to hold the pain.."

Also, the lack of punctuation and use of line breaks is great.

(pssssst. hope that writing this piece has eased your pain!!)

Obi.

Dear Emou, what a heart rending poem. I'm so sorry for your great loss and hope you eventually find peace. Others have already said it all. Not being able to cry is sometimes the sort of upbringing one had. My British parents were the "stiff upper lip" kind, so I've always found it almost impossible to cry. That is not so good, in my case I ended up with pains in my muscles which turned out to be Fibromyalgia. And so it goes.
It's true, often one doesn't accept the fact that a loved one has gone. It didn't happen to me, but some are in denial for years.
Again, my condolences and thank you for sharing your thoughts in this powerful poem. Peace, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

Hello, Eumolpus,
In reading your poem, I am reminded of the first two stages of grief - denial and anger. Your poetry poignantly defines them and shares your experience first hand with your reader.
My condolences,
L

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