The Merits of Weeping

by April Artrip


If I had to describe him

I would say he is,

Was, intelligent, a good person,

Words that sound like they

Belong in an obituary,

Impersonal, nondescript.

Is there a requirement for

The eloquence in which I must

Speak of him?

Is there a prerequisite for mourning?

Is there a cut-off for

The amount of time

Since we last spoke

Before my tears are insincere?

If there are those

Who call him “friend,”

“Brother,” “son,”

Words with more meaning
Than anything
I could ever say,

Do I still deserve to cry?

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