Eight days,

Eight weeks,

Eight months,

Eight years,

I keep waiting for it to get easier

It hasn’t

I wait

For the numbness

To give way

I wait

For the full weight

Of the loss

I wait

For the hurting

To pass to the side

I wait

For the good memories

To push the pain away

You have been gone

Eight years, Dad

I keep waiting for it to get easier

It hasn’t.

Ron Simpson, Jr.

March 8, 2015

Word Play

Hard to

Read

This is a

Poem that doesn't

Say much of

Anything except to

Be hard to 

Read because it

Doesn't follow the

Commonly

Used structure of

Sentencing

It breaks at

All the wrong 

Places and

Therefore interrupts

The readers

Flow of

Reading

This forces

The reader to

Search for the

Meaning of the 

Words so

Eclectically

Written and

Structured

Perhaps this is

Not such a bad

Thing if it

Causes us to

Step outside and

See what is being

Said and not 

Assuming we 

Already know what

The writer is

Saying

Maybe we 

Need to listen this

Way as well

Ron Simpson

March 8, 2014