Don't tell me that you know.
Don't tell me that I will survive.
How I will surely grow.
Don't tell me this is just a test,
That I am truly blessed.
That I am chosen for this task,
Apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers
That can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass
That I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgment
Of the bounds I must untie.
Don't tell me how to suffer,
And don't tell me how to cry.
My life is filled with selfishness.
My pain is all I see.
But I need you, I need your love.
Unconditionally.
Accept me in my ups and downs.
I need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry,
And say, "My friend, I care."
Joanetta Hendel
Bereavement Magazine
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