PAD Challenge Day 12: Good Grief: Kansas City’s Blues

PAD Challenge Day 12: Write a lament poem.

Good Grief: Kansas City’s Blues

Finally, my heart stopped bleeding;
but my soul is still wounded,
stitched and scabbed.
My pain has descended
from a ten to a five.
For almost a year,
I kept asking myself,
"Are you strong enough to recover
your emotions from your sleeve,
keep April’s showers off your face
and prepare to hand out May flowers?"
Because since your sweet
chariot swung low, Granny Ruby,
I have to buy two bundles now,
one for Mother’s Day,
another for your death day.
Single every rose out again,
stem them along the Paseo
until I reach 18th and Vine;
let living souls in sync
with all-that-jazz feel and smell
the love you can’t anymore;
then drop a few petals
by the intercom because 
your name has been temporarily
replaced with -UNKNOWN-,
air and key tones.



I’ll just welcome myself,
trail flowers to the right,
down the hallway
until I reach apartment 16-
shower the rest over
the balcony
in memory of you,
my concrete rose.



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