Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2020
I never thought I’d see the day
that I’d be burying my firstborn
son on this Saturday afternoon,
standing by the gravesite staring
at the closed casket, my heart
breaking, my hands shaking,
my eyes filled with overwhelming
years, suffocating in their sockets,
my spirit sunken, screaming fears,
the sun making it so hot that I could
barely stand the scorching heat.
I was trying so hard to be strong,
to think good thoughts and trust
that God had a plan.  But the truth
was that I was going crazy, drifting
in outer spaces beyond aching mazes,
disintegrating, my skin sweating,
my heartbeat rapidly rising, unable
to breathe from this grieving scene,
wishing it were all a terrifying dream,
that I could just wake up in the middle
of the night, walk towards my sons’ room,
slowly open the door and see him
sleeping so peacefully in his cozy
Spiderman bedsheets, his small fingers
clung to his favorite ochre-tanned teddy
bear, his adorable head glued to the pillow,
my 4-year old trooper, my little man
that kept me going when I felt like stopping.
He was the reason that I worked
so hard day and night at my job,
putting in major overtime, trying
to be the best father I could be
in his life, trying to build a family
the way my late beautiful wife
would’ve wanted. But I didn’t
know if I could be strong
through in this moment,
watching the shadowed casket
go underground, everything in me
growing numb, unsung, hung
in the bland blue skies. I should’ve
never went to the mall that disastrous
day, not knowing that a fight
would break out and you would be
caught in the middle of it, golden grey,
tasteless, blazed bullets flying everywhere
as one pierced through the inner walls
of your heart, causing you to fall
on the crimson covered floor.  And I ran
towards you, hoping that I could bring
you back to life, but your body was falling
beneath the horizon, your large, adventurous
eyes closing, and I screamed out loud.
“I’m so sorry son. I’m so sorry.
What was I thinking? Why did we have
to come to this place? Why? Why? Why?
And as everyone walked away
from the grave, some shaking
my hands, others reaching out to hug
me, assuring me that the pain
would fade away in time,
I felt like I was declining like a
sinking stranded in the lifeless seas,
no one to come to my rescue.
Travis Green
Written by
Travis Green  30/M/Middlesex, NC
(30/M/Middlesex, NC)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems