Just For You Poetry

They say, the past is done with,
the end of some old song;
that's tossed into the trash bin,
and now, does not belong.

They say, the past will bring you down,
it's better, left alone;
but there are things I can't forget,
some things I can't condone.

They say, it's buried in the brain,
down deeply in the mind;
let's forge on to tomorrow,
they're trying to be kind.

They say, that's it's all over,
it's just a memory;
but it's an image planted,
and I cannot break free.

They say, the past is final,
but my dead child still remains;
I still hurt inside that past,
and I cannot still the pains.

Oh my goodness David , you have my every sympathy if this is real....and how could "They" possibly know what your pain is like?

You have a lovely rhythm and wonderful rhyming scheme here, wonderful poetry my friend...

A very sad poem, but wonderfully written. Heartbreaking.

I lost my son at age five. A drowning. The sorrow never ends.

Thank you for your concern.