Loss

helplessly the image

haunts you

nothing breaks your heart

than to see a grown man cry

over the loss of a loved one

the apple of his eye

to make you realize

the filmsy thread of life

on which hangs

his hopes and dreams

trying not to see too far

in the distance

fearful of what news

may be thrown at you

around the next bend

next minute, next hour

next month, next year

while you live

while they live their lives

shakespeare should have said

frailty, thy name is human.