The Last Easter Day

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Writing poetry when I'm having heavy bouts of anxiety or panic attacks really gets me through, although I was very tired and out of it when I wrote this. Oddly enough it's when I'm at my most distressed that I produce the most thoughtful of works. Suffering really does bring out the best in us if we can let it.

I remember blurred lines

Lines crossed

Things that couldn't be taken back

Sayings that hurt so strong, strength came and then it was gone

 

I remember her smile

Clear as Easter Day, and it was

There as we searched for eggs

There when our Nana spoke praise

Cakes and treats stuffed in a kitchen oven

No longer used for heat

Just like her smile that was once clear on Easter Day

 

I remember a crooked love

A broken heart, hearth without a fire

Light so bright, blind of us to ever realize

Those nights would never end, though we pleaded, just lend us her old hand

 

I remember the highs

Wonderful as a baby's smile, shine of light be that of the sun 

Rai she would always say

but Ray she ceased to be

When the love stopped being fun

And our Nana's last breath had come undone

Same as her baby's smile, her Rai of golden sun


Submitted: May 19, 2020

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