Whispers In The Dark
By Charlene McCann 09/03/01

A year and a half has passed since when
The dear Lord called you home...
A year and a half of troubled days;
Yet... time enough to mend....

Though days have sped by rapidly
I can't recall an hour,
When thoughts of you don't linger near;
Those thoughts have so much power.



The memory of your last few weeks
Still haunt me to this day.
I don't seem able to let them go;
Please ~~~ help me find a way.

Although I'm only human
The guilt still tears at me.
Those "little things" unthought of;
Those "little things" I did not see.



Unable to resolve the strife,
The burden never ending.
I find I dare not speak of it
For others have done Their mending.

To myself I keep my thoughts
Fearing ridicule and scorn
From those more able to move ahead
And see a brighter morn...



Healing comes with Time, it's said.
Time has, thus far, no cure.
How much of it must need to pass?
How much must I endure?

I need a key to unlock the door
Where all this pain and guilt reside.
Please; someone help me find that key.
I'm so torn up inside...



This poem was written by Charlene McCann and is 09/03/01.
Copying or reproducing is strictly prohibited.