This Poem was Submitted By: Medard Louis Lefevre Jr. On Date: 2012-08-05 20:47:54 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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the last sorrow

the last sorrow I ever knew I was alone as I had to be no witness no record no acknowledgement except between God and me no time for reflection no time for remorse no time to repent no time to forgive no time to pray no time for me none of these were concepts that existed anymore if they once mattered they dispersed into nothing not even a memory is worth a thought if the memory is worth forgetting the last sorrow was never felt

Copyright © August 2012 Medard Louis Lefevre Jr.

Additional Notes:
diamonds and rust

This Poem was Critiqued By: Ellen K Lewis On Date: 2012-09-06 19:16:45
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Hello Medard. Such a dark and doleful thing that my heart lays heavy as I search for something bright here, perhaps hidden. But I find nothing. No hope, no redemption. Just the knowledge that something was lost, wasted. It seems there may be a whole in your life somewhere. I hope that your own musings and writings will help you fill the void. Remembering that the fullness comes from you-from inside of you- and not from the world outside who imagine they understand. Thanks for letting me see in. I hope that your joy is coming full circle, back to you again. ~smiles~ Ellen

This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2012-08-28 01:27:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Medard, It seems to me you've fallen off from some of the prior, more recent postings of yours - which were first rate. And older one? MSS
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2012-08-11 11:39:15
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Medard, I am not sure what your note means –diamonds and rust-. Dealing with Corrosion Control all the time I understand the rust. Concerning your poem, of a life lived, I assume diamonds are the high point –the good that is created in the pressure of living- and rust is the low points –the decay and remorse that is carried from poor choices and inevitable disappointment. In the piece, meeting the maker, which is the only moment that would encapsulate all of your premises, the assumption is an acceptable bill of goods, acceptable end product. I wonder how this piece would end if it were about that person whose cumalitive product was found lacking. It is nice not to have to feel the last sorrow, and the hope that the transition is as amicable as portrayed. I will say that, you have also written into the piece the atheist’s point. –when you’re gone, you’re gone, and you won’t feel anything ever again-. Now that bothers me far more than the alternate destination.
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