‘Loss’ by Andrew Bell

Why are we thinking more about loss?
We talked about it late into the night.
I said my mind would sometimes stray
beyond the horizon, witness remotely
the weather’s incoherence, in places
where fire and water were fighting back,
or listen to people on the streets beating out
rhythms to stop the madness… or screaming
about some biblical payback for generations
of self-defeating wars with nature.

But then, I would pull back, perhaps open
my notebook to find words to listen out
for nature’s version.

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Friend by Barrie Purnell

FRIEND

Your leaving left a scar across
The landscape of my life,
When you changed from someone I know
Into someone that I once knew.

When I lost you I didn’t just lose a friend,
I lost a part of my identity,
I didn’t just lose a person,
I lost part of my history.

We lived through each-other’s hopes and fears
With love and anger in equal measure.
A million shared experiences,
Now I have no one to share them with.

You liked me despite knowing all my secrets,
And told me things I wouldn’t tell myself.
We knew too much about each-other
To ever consider betrayal.

Your world’s a lonelier place
When an old friend goes away.
They can’t be replaced by someone new,
You cannot replace time.

I go whistling past the graveyard
To drown the echo of your voice.
Your memory sits gently on my heart
And leaks out of my eyes in my tears.

You have left a scar that will not heal
It’s inside of me so no one else can see.
We promised that we wouldn’t grieve,
I couldn’t keep my part of that deal.

      

This Loss by Michael Healy

This Loss

How can you say what has been, when you do not know,
How can you tell how it feels, when it does not show,
How can you say how it is, when you know not the cost,
How can you think you understand, when you have not this loss.
 
Let only those who really know speak of what has gone,
Yet they may also hide behind a simple phrase, ‘life must go on’.
The jagged stabs that knot inside, the hidden inner rage,
The tears that well, the pain that swells; such a young age.
 
Do not tell me you understand or that you really know,
Do not tell me how it feels, when it does not show,
Do not say how it is, when you know not the cost,
Please God you never understand the feeling of this loss.
 Michael Healy