Residual

Another random poem...

I’ve been walking around this place for days

On the bitter verge of bitter tears,

the scars of marks

borne of this tattered heart,

build boxes with the years.

There seems to be no ending, no beginning -

A sacred unraveling of twine that makes up my mind

 the abyssal pit of my memories

that I can’t help but to watch painfully

the residual of a You and a Me

gone to time…

 

Meaningless days in so many ways,

How are you gone and I’m forced to stay?

and I’m expected to be –the same ol’ me?

It all comes so unnaturally…

 I walk the world behind a mask in order to remain,

I read stories to the kids in the hospital where I live;

I’ve got so much ‘Mom’ left in me to give,

Inspiration = a child smiling through immeasurable pain.

Inspiration that I will never know again –

But will stay with me through the bitter end.

 

 

 

 

 

The End

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