June 27, 2015
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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