I Miss You Already

by UniSciKill
She bravely fought
The growing storm inside
Till her last breath
Now here she lies
Her new headboard
A symbol of strength
Standing silently
By her dirt made bed
Tears wishing to say
One last good-bye
Your heart beats with
Unbearable pain
It breaks me
To see you this way
But I know you will overcome
By seeing what I see
A strong daughter
of a once lively mother

31 Comments to “I Miss You Already”

  1. Last night I received news from a close friend. A friend who I haven’t heard from a while. She told me her mother passed away from cancer days ago. This poem is dedicated to her and her mother.


  2. Heartfelt stuff, Unicycle.


  3. Whaaat?

    Another one snuffed it? How many’s that now?

    If my calculations are right, we should have at least one more obituary by Friday.

    Looking forward to the poem.

    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

    (Stickybud, you’re good at poetry. Couldn’t you get someone of your aquaintance* to kick the bucket?)

    *Not me, naturally, but I’ve heard that Nobbly’s got nothing planned for the weekend.


    • Sorry, dirges aren’t my forte – depress the fuck out of me.


      • Damn ! That’s really put the cat amongst the pigeons. I’m going to be straight with you Sticky – you have dissapointed me. I understand a certain reluctance when people are asked to die, but all I was asking for you to do was write a few rhyming lines. It’s not like we were going to kill you or anyth . . .

        Hmmm . . .


        • Great minds think alike. Have you got any of that haggis left? It must be seriously toxic by now. We know he lives about 40 miles outside London, but not the direction. So, exploding the haggis at an altitude of about 1000 feet above Westminster will cause some unfortunate collateral damage, but we’ll be sure to get him with some of it.


        • Nooooo! If you kill Stickybud, who is going to be the hero in my upcoming MH story?!


        • Don’t think I haven’t sussed what you’re upto, mr ratty – next thing you’ll be turning on the waterworks, declaring what a noble act it would be for stickybud, poet, to make the ultimate sacrifice, bringing about his own demise and writing a poem about it at the same time. And how it would get me in the Guinness Book Of Records.


          • That sounds… amazing. All we need is a bit of romance.


          • Yep ! All those things. You could have been someone.

            But, don’t come crying to me. It’s too late now.

            PS : R.I.P.


            • No, of course I won’t – because I won’t have written any dirges.

              I don’t write dirges, remember?

              Oh, and it’s ‘disappoint’. Not that I find mis-spellings fucking irritating, or anything.


              • I can’t do it. Stickybud’s my mate. I don’t know what madness came over me.

                Oh, well. The next dead body belongs to Icicle, again.

                Fancy a beer, Stickybud?


  4. I’ve got some dry stone walling to do this weekend, and MrsN is off to a horse show. If I pop me clogs, the wall won’t get repaired, and there will be no-one to reverse the horse trailer back into its spot.

    Unless she’s got another bloke waiting to do it….. the swine…wait till I see him, hanging around the stables with his driving gloves on and sporting a smug grin.


    • OK. That’s you out of the picture, then, though I must admit to being a tad unhappy with your attitude, after all we were only asking for you to die, and it was for MH’s greater good.

      Right, who does that leave us with then? Let me see, there’s Duncan and then there’s Julie. Oh, do you think that allesklar would help us out in a jam?

      Stay in contact, Nobbly. Bear in mind we have to have something prepared before Friday.


  5. Nobbly… Duncan… I was thinking of writing a short story with us, the madhatters, to practice my novel writing skills. The story will start with a brilliant poet in a sticky situation and end with love and ratweed babies. What do you both think?


    • You start if off, and we’ll chip in as we go along.

      I have novel writing skills as well, ya know. Last time I sent some work to a publisher, his eyes glazed over and he said “Fuck me – that’s novel.”

      In fact he kept repeating it over and over again as they strapped him into the straightjacket and carried him away.


      • HA HA HA! Alright then, we have a deal. I’ll start it off and you can continue.

        *reads comments above*

        Hmm… How about a plastic ratty doll? I’ll burn it in a bonfire… unless someone’s got a better idea of how to dispose of it?


  6. Damn, hate this new WordPress.com commenting thing.
    So, 2 people clicked over to one of my blogs (A Page of My Own) from this post- not sure if that’s good for me or not? Haggis, plastic ratty dolls, death and mayhem? ! OY.
    kisses, W


    • Here comes No. 3, Walker (as soon as I finish work). I say, you don’t have anything special planned for the weekend do you, hmm?


      • I think Walker’s other blog ‘Deliriously Divine’ would be more to your taste.

        She’s also got another one aimed at improving the chances of the over- 80s when trying to arrange a quick leg-over on the internet.


  7. Dolls, death and mayhem….. sounds like a Tarantino film. If he cast Billy Connolly, I’m sure he could work the haggis in as well. Nice to see you, W.


  8. My dear, I have no plans for the weekend…rush right over!
    Sharing ALL my secrets I see!


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