Poem 355 ± May 24, 2016

Jason S. Price
Tears for a cure

If tears could raise them from the ashes
I’ve cried
a salted sea
not for their ghosts but that we will never
forget them:
forget their sunny dispositions,
forget their sores,
forget their purple laughters,
the sadness they carried long
before they closed their eyes forever.
Sometimes I think I may have forgotten
the miles & miles of antiseptic corridors,
of pacing in the wait for news,
forget the sudden screams of shock
although I was told weeks ago to be prepared
(I was never prepared)
how could I be when Death was on a mission
to kill the fete?
Now with the bones of my eyes glaring I weep
for the rest of my days, days I’ll die to spend
painting the details of a face hoping for a cure.


Jason S. PriceJason S. Price is a Belize-American writer. His works include several books of poetry, a collection of short stories, and a novel. Currently, he serves as a moderator for the Poets Dream online community and supports a mentoring program in New York City.

This poem is not previously published.