It’s not the date marked on a calendar
Nor the ticking of the clock
That tell me when to cry, to grieve
Reminding, I need not

It’s not the seasons of the year
Nor occasions that come to pass
That remind me I’m bereaved
That my dreams are shattered glass

It’s the sound of children’s laughter
And the absence of your smile
That remind me of my despair
Its depths, so dark and vile

It’s the me-time I spend missing you
For this heart is not for mending
A mother’s love without her son
Like a story without an ending

It’s the vacant space that no other sees
And the echo in my heart
That remind me, as if I needed it
That my world’s been torn apart

by Amanda Brooke