At first it hurts

It hurts so bad

It stings so deep

It'll drive you mad.

You may cry

Or you may give to hate

Everyone grieves in their own way.

I rarely every cry

I tend to bottle things up.

But I think there comes a time

Where the grieve says enough

And though it's always there

I think there comes a time

You appreciate all the times you shared,

And all the memories you made.

Those don't ever leave you

The memories will remain.