Things Left Unsaid

I stood by the casket, my tongue froze in place,

a swirl of lost words, a blank, empty space.

How he flipped pancakes, golden and round,

a Sunday morning magic in that warm, loving sound.

The syrupy laughter, a sweetness we knew,

but I clutched my regrets while the silence just grew.

Surrounded by sorrow, each heartbeat was raw,

I wished I had shared how I loved him—before.