June 27, 2015

  • The fear is consuming

    The pain unbearable

    I am frozen in panic

    Watching the ground beneath me

    Turn to sand

    Like evening's empire

    Slipping away through an hour glass

    The pain is consuming

    The fear unbearable

    I lie awake in anguish

    Holding the hope to my chest

    Becoming my life line

    Like a wind blown branch

    Teatering above a cliff with rocks below

    The fear is unbearable

    The pain consuming

    I avoid faces of my children

    Dreading any sign of trepidation in their eyes

    Like a red hot poker

    Searing through my heart and into my soul

    The pain is unbearable

    The fear consuming

     

     

Comments (2)

  • My brother and his wife have four children with another on the way. I noticed every time each child became old enough to recognize that I was strange and look at me accordingly. They don't mean anything by it, or by their anger, or by their worry - they won't even remember it! You will keep them alive and safe. That is what they will remember.

  • a poem fraught with intensity, and possibility
    ,we do only what we can ... our little ones will love us as we love them

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