Platitudes of the Multitudes

Losing

Only

Brother

So close

In age - resemblance

Mistaken as twins

As we grew up and apart

Stolen

Torn

Taken

Untimely – too early

As a vital young man

Cheated
Of his life

Well meaning
Yet empty
Endless stream of words
Platitudes of the multitudes

Who nothing else knew

In their difficult discomfort

But to blurt out, unthinking,

“Time heals all wounds”

Indeed

Time

Alone

Does not – can not

Heal

Traumatic injuries

So deep

That the slightest breeze

Could blow straight through me

Ruffling my clothes

Countless

Tears

Cried

So many

Years

My shoes squeaked and sloshed

Leaving puddles of grief

On the floor

Where I walked

Time

Did not – could not

Heal me

Though grief now

Is not raw

It is still here

Always, ever
Hovering near

Whispering softly

In my ear,

"He is gone
 He is gone

 He is gone"