The Blame Game

In Poetry Form

This poem deals with death and grief, please do not read on if you are not in the right frame of mind.

It normally starts with the pointing of fingers,
Outwards, upwards and around.
However today it’s the other blame game,
Where you want to beat yourself to the ground.

It started with a tragedy we wanted to understand,
We looked for the reasons why.
We assessed what we did up until that point,
Each time it would make us cry.

What could we have changed or asked,
A different question or small act.
Sometimes symptoms aren’t so visible,
And we don’t have time to react.

You assure each other, it’s no-one’s fault,
An example of a terrible life tale.
You talk it through, out loud and within,
But it’ll never feel anything less than a fail.

So how do you move on, with that guilt in your heart,
The one that drives anxiety and fear.
How do you unmuddy that murky mind,
To go back, way back, when it was clear.

It leads to question what others think of you too,
You might ask if revenge is on its way?
Will they come at you with a knife or a gun,
Or worse, those words, it’s you I blame.

Because sometimes that happens,
A loss of that abundance of care.
Everyone's stopped looking out for each other,
Despite battling the same nightmare.

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