Grief has its own set of lungs
And tears that etch and burn
Lyrical scriptures engraved
Upon our very tongues
Sorrow is a bright flame
Slowly consumed by time
And when the fire dies
Love remains the same
If mourning we must do
Because life never lasts
Then I hope I do it well
To honor the light of you
HASTYWORDS 
Grief does have its own set of lungs. Your poem brought back those very words someone said when my dad died and when we couldn’t keep our grief in. Your poem is beautiful and heartbreaking.
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this was beautiful.
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