TRYING TO SEE.

A FATHER TALKS TO HIS DEAD SON.

It's like the world stopped,
like someone
turned off the lights,

like some kid
in a dark room
full of frights.

Where, my son,
do I go from here?

The horizon is dull
and unclear.

I played
the Led Zeppelin album
you bought me last.

Seem to see your ghost,
can't catch it,
can't move so fast.

It's like the seasons
have all gone wrong,
like emptiness
has become the norm,

and can't recall
the lyrics
of my favourite song.

Like a child left
in a storm,
full of lights
and sounds,

and ancient woes,
trying to see
where the dead ones go.

Reviews

[MomzillaNC]

Such a sense of brokenhearted ache…

A couple of edits:
did you mean "[has] become the norm"
did you mean "and [ancient's] woes" or "and [ancient] woes?"

[Terry Collett]

Thank you. Well spotted. I have edited.

[MomzillaNC]

You're welcome. Glad I could help.