Resident grief (my poem)
Grief does not reside here
It starved on nights of few
It succumbed to loneliness
It drowned in cold showers
In its stead are stones, cement,
and the iron will that binds them
Grief does not reside here
It starved on nights of few
It succumbed to loneliness
It drowned in cold showers
In its stead are stones, cement,
and the iron will that binds them