Death is not anything more than an open gateway to other loved ones who have ceased. Here is a poem on longing for your turn.


I wish I never knew you or saw you altogether
Because now, all of the sudden, your light as a feather.
It hurts,mentally, it cuts deeper than a sword.
Soon I’ll be with you, I swear on my word.



It’s in the perspective of a mother who has lost her child to bullying, and is grieving because they were so close. The mother is old, so she will die of old age soon.