broken heart – Hearts Still Care

Our Love

Published on March 10, 2026March 11, 2026 by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

I let you go today;
I let you go, to sleep;
You are not in pain now
I, yet alive, must weep –

I cry for the love I had:
That which you showered on me;
I bid Death take it away
And it can no longer be –

I saw your body burn –
I saw the love you gave die –
I have met Death before –
I no longer ask why.

If I asked it of you,
I know you would stay –
Alive, you hobbled to me,
Though cancer barred your way.

But I sought peace for you –
Love makes it very sad –
I had you put to sleep,
Now it drives me mad –

You’re no longer in pain
So Death commands I weep –
Because as I let you go –
Our love I get to keep.

your book

Published on December 21, 2024December 21, 2024 by Harpreet Chhachhia1 Comment

I was cleaning a drawer
Filled with documents and such.
A book I had stashed away
Peeped out from a corner.

It had your poems and accounts
And an old, faded rose.
I forgot if you or I had saved the bloom,
But your handwriting was enough
To send me into a spiral.

The pages of the book were yellow,
Your words were written in pencil,
Your handwriting curvy
And almost illegible.
It was a struggle;
Then your voice
Shone in the words.

The first paragraph I read
Struck me—like a surprise hug.
It was about a sadness
And a wait—like all of life,
With dried petals caught in between.

You reached out to tell me
The written word means much;
It finds light and memory
Through life’s corners in dirty drawers.