The good and the painful

Are not enemies

They are lost brothers

Holding hands

After the war throws itself across geographies

Into foreign lands

Where strangers speak in strange tongues

And suddenly a face in the crowd

Recognizes what you cannot ever say

Out loud

Silence is a harsh brand

That scars the future

With the past

If we last

If we are lost


A number is not a name

And you will never be sorry

For what you claim from the ashes

Or the fiery sparks of shame

You are my brother

You are my blood

You are my partner

In this terrifying flood of change

The only danger is to forget

The only comfort

Is what hasn’t happened


Grief is not the ending

We are still the same

Grief is just the pain that cuts away

What we are carrying

And must lay down

To live again

© 2022 Julie Flanders

April is Poetry Month Day 24


About octoberprojectmusic

Julie Flanders Marina Belica Emil Adler
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