5-5-5-5
The call went out
It meant one thing.
Death in the line of duty
Women keen
and Grown men weep
at the loss of youth and beauty.
The empty locker,
The ownerless gear,
silence that is a presence.
Brave Liam lies dead.
The fireman’s friend
Pity the parents their loss
The ownerless toys,
The master less pets,
How to make sense of it all?
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Related quotes
Loss Of...
Loss it seems is the worst kind of sorrow
Loss of dreams, the dreams of tomorrow
Loss of the moments you two should have shared
Loss of opportunities to show her you cared
Loss of the memories you both could have created
Loss of the romance once intense as you dated
Loss of a kiss, caress, or embrace
Loss of that special feeling no one else can replace
Loss of a look, the twinkle in her eye
Loss of the touch as you pass each other by
Loss of a future, from a past of regret
Loss of a last chance, how many do you get
Loss of a promise you never meant to break
Loss of two hearts that forever will ache
(2012)
poem by Michael Ernst
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True Fear
true fear,
it cannot be lost of material item,
no,
is it loss you life,
loss of friend?
loss of family?
bieng alone?
but surely,
a brave soul must give,
give to utter nightmare,
if this true fear,
is worth what you make it,
if is not worth giving a life,
then call it not a true fear,
great maybe,
major sure,
but true fear,
impossible,
true fear is entire surrender,
mental collapse,
such a horror,
dont call it true,
if is not true,
or true fear,
will devour,
and it eats well, all too well...
for the fragil presence,
of our sanctity,
will shatter,
poem by Jacob Biehl
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Enough Said
Loss of life, loss of money, loss of your wife-maybe a loss of your job can not compare with this!
Over the river,
Through the woods,
That is the only thing that I heard.
The screams were there,
So were the sighs,
Oh, why or why?
Everyone convened on the back porch,
I never realized what it was for,
Surely, It couldn't be,
That they were expecting me.
I thought that I was their friend,
They left the light on,
But wait what is that they have in their hands,
Maybe I shouldn't go,
But there she is,
If I don't go,
Will I regret it!
She will never let me live it down,
Now however,
They have put it up!
Pest,
What is that they call me?
Can't they see that they need me?
Oh, no! What is that sound,
Zap another one hit the ground?
Wake up you beloved friend,
But such is the life of the fly-enough said.
poem by Les Farmer
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Enough Said
Loss of life, loss of money, loss of your wife-maybe a loss of your job can not compare with this!
Over the river,
Through the woods,
That is the only thing that I heard.
The screams were there,
So were the sighs,
Oh, why or why?
Everyone convened on the back porch,
I never realized what it was for,
Surely, It couldn't be,
That they were expecting me.
I thought that I was their friend,
They left the light on,
But wait what is that they have in their hands,
Maybe I shouldn't go,
But there she is,
If I don't go,
Will I regret it!
She will never let me live it down,
Now however,
They have put it up!
Pest,
What is that they call me?
Can't they see that they need me?
Oh, no! What is that sound,
Zap another one hit the ground?
Wake up you beloved friend,
But such is the life of the fly-enough said.
poem by Nadalia Bagratuni
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Lost In A House Fire
The loss of a child
The loss of a wife
Tis all the same as the loss of your own life
The loss of house and all that's inside
Tis all the same as if your whole soul had died
The loss of temper
Loss of faith and self-control
Tis all the same as knowing you have now grown very old
The loss of all memory when all is becalmed
When you find that your wife and child all safe and unharmed
poem by Neil Milliner
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Prince Liam the Brave
Young Liam loved Orange
and liked to wear ties.
To his firehouse friends
He was one of the guys.
He had his own locker
a slicker and hat.
He also had cancer,
and a bad one at that.
From early on in his life
he fought neuroblastoma;
An invasive tumor
a metastatic carcinoma.
His family who loved him
labored to save
their dear little child
Prince Liam the Brave.
He faced surgery bravely,
engaged in his fight..
He endured radiation,
Chemo and knife.
When many a New Yorker
complains about stress,
Prince Liam was stoic
When put to the test.
Then just before Christmas
he had a relapse
He became neutrapenic-
His immune system collapsed.
With blood in his urine
And a spot on his lung
Liam grew weak.
his defenses undone.
An Amethyst stone
he received from a friend -
his talisman of hope
that he held to the end.
There are brave fire fighters
Who’ll be fighting back tears
Brave Prince Liam has died,
He lived only six years
There are many old people
still avoiding the grave
Who know less about love
Than did Liam the brave
We will gather together
In St Francis’ nave
To remember the life of
Prince Liam the brave
poem by John F. McCullagh
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Loss Unbearable, Loss Irrepearable
The death of a twelve year old,
Her sister shed tears,
But the body was cold,
Loss Unbearable, Loss Irrepearable.
She felt all had lost hope,
It was her fault,
'I let go the rope! '
Loss Unbearable, Loss Irrepearable.
'I should have pulled her up'
'I lost grip'
'I should'nt have given up! '
Loss Unbearable, Loss Irrepearable.
'You trusted me! '
'And there is no reason....'
' No you shouldn't have, see? '
Loss Unbearable, Loss Irrepearable.
'No! It's not your fault! ',
Said her sister,
Who lay dead in the vault,
Loss Unbearable, Loss Irrepearable.
poem by Ulveena Aitzaz
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To Debby On The Death Of Her Dad
To say sorry seems such an easy thing to say
But from you that won't take your sense of loss away
You have been burdened with a heavy cross
And time alone can only heal your sense of loss.
Old 98 for you it ended bad
The grim reaper from you he took your dad
I only can imagine how you must feel
But time the scars of sorrow always heal.
You've lost the hero of your childhood years
And he was one well worthy of your tears
But Debby your tears will bring to you relief
And help to heal your mental scars of grief.
Your father was a man I never knew
But he was one who meant so much to you
The life breath from his body may be gone
But his soul alive and well and living on.
I'm one of those with words who like to play
And to say sorry such an easy thing to say
And I can't feel the sense of loss you feel
And time itself the only thing that heal.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Loss
Watching as you drive away
Speed away so fast
Knowing something's different now
That ending was our last
Nothing describes the emptiness filled inside
Take me to that place
Where everything's fine
And not a worry in mind
Sweeter to the taste
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i'd do it again
To be with you feels like the right thing
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i try to pretend
That nothing's changed for all that you bring
For all that you bring
Simple is so complex now
So I understand
That I never thought that happy could be distraught
Help me if you can
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i'd do it again
To be with you feels like the right thing
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i try to pretend
That nothing's changed for all that you bring
Well I know I'm wrong
And you know I'm here
I don't want to let you disapear
What am I worth when your eyes were
Begging me in fear
I only want to see you again
And repair the wounds that brought me in
I don't want to think it won't happen again
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i'd do it again
To be with you feels like the right thing
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i try to pretend
That nothing's changed for all that you bring
For all that you bring
For all that you bring
For all you bring
song performed by by 1208
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kinds of Loss
There's kinds of loss that can bum you out
The loss of a game
You lost your way
Losing your favorite pin
This can make you pout
But without a doubt
It is not a real big thing
The kind of loss that can make you shout
The loss of your job
The loss your car
When you could not pay
It left you confused
Feeling slightly defused
But then you can re-group
Then there a loss, that cuts deep within
My maternal rights that I tried not to win
So stupid to give up such a gift
To watch my boys grow, live with the man
that I've tried so much to get away
No school papers to hang on my frig
No more practices to run to at night
Now I that I am a part-time Mom
And try and do it all on my weekends
poem by Pookey's Poems
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Losing My Minority
To lose one’s minority
Is not a bad thing.
With the loss of minority
come untold opportunities,
The magic of the number Eighteen.
With the loss of minority
Comes the lifting of the chains
That we once called childhood.
With the loss of minority
Comes college, then work,
Credit cards and Ebay.
With the loss of minority
Come parties and booze,
Familiar faces in the evening news.
With the loss of minority
Comes the search for a partner –
The thorn-lined chatrooms on rose-colored sites.
With the loss of minority
Comes the loss of virginity
And the loss of your sanity.
To lose one’s minority
is not a bad thing.
Young girl, welcome to your future.
poem by Marin Tsuikata
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Weep In Silence
You who thought
Your eyes could tell no lies
So your life became a compromise
And it was you
Who had seen men dyin
You heard their children cryin
While their women weep in silence
And you who thought
You were so wise
Succeeded only in disguise
Now and then
Youd find a bridge to cross
Reach the other side
And youd still be lost
Evaded by the sweet smell of life
And the people that you try
To show the way
Never believe you
Never believe you - no way
While your women weep in silence
Your women weep in silence
Women weep in silence
song performed by by Uriah Heep
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Another Young Soldier
Another young soldier has died far away
An army representative will call on his mother today
For to tell her your son on the course of his duty has died
He served and died for his Country with his mates at his side.
Another war mother will grieve for her son
It will not matter to her if the battle was won
And it will not matter to her if her boy died brave
She will weep every time she will visit his grave.
Another young soldier to join the war dead
A bullet from a sniper hit him in the head
On his next birthday in June he would be twenty three
His loss a heavy cross to bear for his parents and members of his family.
Another young soldier may he rest in peace
At least from further suffering he has found release
Just one more to die in another man's war
On a bombed out back street in a city afar.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Wake Of Bloody Sunday
No
Dogs bark
Nor people
Smile
Broken hearts
And silence
For the dead
A city sobs
A nation
Weeps
Because of a peoples loss
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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Since I Have Felt The Sense Of Death
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have borne its dread, its fear—
Oh, how my life has grown more dear
Since I have felt the sense of death!
Sorrows are good, and cares are small,
Since I have known the loss of all.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
And death forever at my side—
Oh, how the world has opened wide
Since I have felt the sense of death!
My hours are jewels that I spend,
For I have seen the hours end.
Since I have felt the sense of death,
Since I have looked on that black night—
My inmost brain is fierce with light
Since I have felt the sense of death.
O dark, that made my eyes to see!
O death, that gave my life to me!
poem by Helen Hoyt
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Loss
Loss is not that first stab,
Nor the numbness that follows.
Loss is not the nights after,
Nor tears shed heavily into pillows.
Loss is coming home full of news,
Only to find an empty house.
Forgetful, to set the table for two,
Turn to speak to vacant air.
Loss is to laugh alone.
poem by Paul Brookes
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I Like Your Silence
i like your silence
now
it is not like the
silence we had
before
your silence
now is different
it is
reminiscing
it is
refreshing
it is
sensitive
to my presence
it is
reflective of
who i am
enabling me
to hear my
breath
to see and
feel
my very own soul
i like your silence
now
it is the silence
of the memory
that cannot
be forgotten
it is not death
it is life
it is the blossom
of my sorrow
it is the fruit of
my despair
it is the silence
of my silence
it is the peace
within my
solitude
it has become
the center of
my life
the focus of my
scattering
the finding of
my loss
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What is loss?
I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents
So what’s the fuss about loss?
Waiting!
Debating!
Contemplating!
What is loss?
Something you care about
Taken away from you by force
Creating total unforgivable chaos
Thinking!
Blinking!
Seeking!
What is loss
It is a minus instead of a plus
Hence the unmistakable fuss
Death and sickness build up great grief
Loss brings despair instead of relief
And in loss itself I have no belief
I resent
What loss represents
I resent
What great loss presents
Loss! An inequitable cause
Thrown on you without a toss
So you become very cross
Because in your life you realize, you are never the only boss!
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Its A Big Loss
Rip
its a big loss...
the plane crash was a tragdy
but your death was a big catastrophic
a professor in mathmatic
that was you Hon. saitoti
its a big loss...
a great mathmatician
a dedicted politician
you solved our security like magician
its a big loss...
you left behind a legacy
many will emurate you like the water in the sea
you were a great seed
to many all over the world
its a big loss...
you fought alshaabab
withou fear nor disturb
you worked together like pal
we wont give up your work on the millitia
its a big loss...
a big gain in heaven
a big loss to kenyan
poem by Fantiz Evans
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Homecoming
Grandfather built, with his own hands
The house we children called our home.
A fine expanse of stone and brick,
a castle that was ours alone.
That was before the threatening storm
turned us into refugees
The howling wind, the battering surge
Let loose the Ocean's enmity.
Of our fine home scant trace remains:
Some stone and the foundation walls
Keepsakes and memories long displayed
Sadly we have lost them all.
No loss of life, no death to weep
But still a sense of loss pervades.
The certainty of Youth is gone
And fallen trees can give no shade.
We'll build again with our own hands
The house our children will call home.
I think, perhaps, on higher ground,
Where Ocean waves do seldom roam
There we will make new memories
Those things we lost will matter not.
We have each other, that is enough.
We'll build our heaven on this spot.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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