THE MONTH I DREAD MOST.

I remember the chill of that fateful month,
when autumn’s decay mirrored my grief.
Dad, I was there by your side
as you took your final, fragile breath
our eyes met one last time,
a silent farewell etched in pain.

March’s winds now carry echoes
of a love I can no longer hold,
each day reopening wounds that still bleed
with the raw ache of your absence.
The calendar marks that cursed month,
where time seemed to stop in sorrow’s grasp,
and every falling leaf whispered your name.

I live with this relentless void,
a constant reminder that I lost you,
a loss so profound it feels as fresh
as the moment I watched you slip away.
Yet, in the depth of this unending ache,
your love remains my guiding light,
a bittersweet beacon amid the darkness.

Though I dread the memory of that month,
I also cherish every smile you gave,
every tender moment we shared,
for even in loss, your spirit lives on
forever in my heart, never truly gone.

By: JemTales
25/03/2025