No more worry
No more guilt.
No more hunger.
No more cold.
No more crying over people crossing the street to avoid you.
Bad things make the regular world too much to bear.
Loss is what you’d do anything to avoid.
Suddenly you reach the point of over. Long overdue.
Death
The blessing in disguise.
Goodbye to my baby, 47 year old, David Callaway, by murder. No more will I think of your hunger or cold; I will only wonder about your last minutes.
Lark, I'm so deeply sorry for your loss. Blessings to you Sweet Lady. There are really no words, they seem so impotent. I have been in the place you describe, God rest his soul and clothe him in riches.
This poem embodies a heartbreaking truth. The end of suffering can be a blessing, but those of left behind still know the tears. Goodbye, David. We will always be thinking of you.
My book is called The Bones of the Homeless an written after hearing the cries of the homeless 24/7 ..Your suffering speaks for millions an I pray the day comes when every soul on earth has food shelter an medical care an no person ever has to eat out of a garbage can.
After volunteering with Mother Teresa and her sisters 25 yrs as well as orphanges the one thing I know is we are here to offer one another service in whatever form the good Lord gives us.
Thank-You for sharing this an opening our hearts and minds.
I think of my own mortality these days, and hope that my
passing will be like an anesthetic that I cannot sense.
Much love to you Lark. I am certain you were a great mom.
Apparently, his bipolar nature made it impossible for him to deal with this world. It makes me wonder whether money and the right treatment, might have made all the difference.
But being murdered in an abandoned house leads me to believe that he was in a modern "no man's land" where people carry guns and use them.
I can't feel your pain because I've never experienced anything like that. Perhaps it is a relief both for him and for you, for not having to worry about him anymore.
Ron
Reviewed by JoAnne Cromp (Reader)
Reviewed on November 11, 2023
Oh my goodness gracious dearest precious Lark. My prayers are with you!!!!!
This is a heartbreaking poem! I feel your pain, and then I also feel the relief that the suffering of your baby is over. He is in a happier place now. God bless him!
A raw in your face story of teenage love, lust, murder, and revenge set in the Bronx in the early seventies, where the cold business world of organize crime melds with the brutality of street gang warlords that ignites a winner takes all battle for u
Share
Print
Save
Follow
After volunteering with Mother Teresa and her sisters 25 yrs as well as orphanges the one thing I know is we are here to offer one another service in whatever form the good Lord gives us.
Thank-You for sharing this an opening our hearts and minds.
passing will be like an anesthetic that I cannot sense.
Much love to you Lark. I am certain you were a great mom.
But being murdered in an abandoned house leads me to believe that he was in a modern "no man's land" where people carry guns and use them.
I can't feel your pain because I've never experienced anything like that. Perhaps it is a relief both for him and for you, for not having to worry about him anymore.
Ron
Sandie