Melvyn a deeply moving poem and talking about loss and grief

Hello it’s Melvyn here. I wrote this poem on the 17th January 2017, and I put at the top of the page ‘The worst day in my life’. Um, it was when my, when my Doberman I had to have put down, I had to have him humanely… and I’d like to err, to let you have a bit of insight into my poem.

It starts:

The darkness I feel at this time is beyond comprehension
I shall never be the same
I shall never feel his face or his nose
when he walks next to me
He knew when I was down
He would comfort me
I will never see his leathers Flapping in the wind when he run
I will never see him act like a clown
Oh the pain I feel when I see that that he’s not there in the morning to greet me
The pain when I look out the back door and he’s not there to have his feet wiped when they were wet

I shall never see him run
I shall never see him burst a football again
I shall never see the joy in his face when he greeted me
I shall never see him play with his toys
I shall never see him eating his feed – what a joy
I shall never see him drink his water
I shall never tug on his football in the garden
I shall never cuddle him again
I shall never lie on his chest

And I put, um, it’s something, it’s something that came into my mind again when I was reading about um, uh – and um to my wife and err and I put

1914/1918 War, the worst years in their lives.
I suppose the soldiers must have felt the same in the 20’s waiting to go over the top,
with their boots full of water and mud around their heels
and the fear from the bullets
crack, crack, tap.

Maxy was my doby.
He was filled with a sense of love.
Max was loved extensively his love was huge and generous and everywhere and filled my life with happiness and serene-ness.
Life goes on, but with so much, um, emptiness,
life goes by but it’s what you do with it that counts.

Oh, this friend of my friend and love of my life,
he was wise and he was my sweetsayer.
He could see something going to happen before it had happened.
Like a (inaudiable)
he needed me and I needed him more.
And I cannot say no more because I have nothing left.

And that was my poem and I’ve wrote a poem for my wife. But I can’t read it at the moment. But I wanted to hear that one about the one I wrote to my Max, so when I can I will say the poem I wrote about my wife and the joy that she brought me. She was a matriarch and she was my life, she my inspiration and she was my life. I can’t; I’m going to go now – bye.