The coat upon the hook,
The mug left in the rack,
Shoes waiting in the porch,
For their owner to come back,
One day soon, I’ll move them,
To where I don’t yet know,
A corner of my mind, I suppose,
Where I can always go,
And visit with the owner,
Of these forsaken shoes,
To complain about the weather,
And laugh about the news,
To sit and watch Inspector Morse,
Drink tea with custard creams,
Funny how the little things,
Become our wildest dreams.

Try some classic poems about grief.

Or a short one about insanity.