Finally Free

Letting go is a hard thing, even when it's the only option it is never easy. I believe this poem is about an ending so I wanted to express my sorrow... A loss is never lost in one's heart, it is there forever. A couple of suggestions for the write... What will I do now? That your free. What will I do now that you're free? (just thought it reads better without the pause) Your... you're (in the last sentence as well) Your pain comes through in this write... raising my morning coffee to better moments... Richard

My time's too brief this morning to devote much of it to this site, but a few---a very few---tweaks might be in order, if I may: I notice your lines, with a couple of exceptions, tend toward syllable counts of seven or eight. The nines seem not to belong. At least from my hurried perspective. And so I offer a prune or two---or three (while being hopeful that you gather what I mean by prune)---so as to hold to consistent eight-count: I will always wish that you had stayed I will always wish you had stayed never a word of worry was said Not a word of worry was said Smiling and laughing without a care Smiling, laughing without a care The last line jumps from the mold. And I think it works fine anyway. If I were the author, I'd make just this alteration: But i know that’s selfish … You’re finally free But I know that’s selfish … You’re finally free And as to content, I offer sincere condolences. Loss of this sort can be inflexibly harsh. Yours, Chuck