That's How it goesI fell walking down the lane, I never felt such a pain, The ambulance finally came, By then I was lame, From the injuries that I sustained.That's How it goes
ClutterClutter,disorder and chaos everywhere, Spiderwebs, cans and broken glass, I swear, Cherished momentos strown all around, Hidden treasures, an impossible accumulation of waste, Of rotting flesh, molding fruits bitter to the taste, The hours I have squandered, My body and energy plundered, Scarred, my body has taken it hard, Yet unwilling to clean and clutter discard.Clutter
Will you?Will you sleep with the enemy near, Will you one day run for fear, The devil is sucking at your soul, Fears realized as you've been told, Will your sons turn their backs on you, By the enemy spouting things untrue, Will you open your eyes to what you missed, Will you long for the people you dismissed, or will you spit on my grave, my son, Will you be glad my days are done?Will you?
My soldierHe stepped off the plane tall and thin, A look of determination sure to win, Excited about all he had seen, Ready to follow and work on his dreams, Striving to obtain all of life's best, Struggling hard to pass all the tests, That he faces differently sometimes far away, To different countries for a short stay, His American boots on foreign soil stand, This child of mine is now his own man.My soldier
| I have a moderately retarded son. He is now 35 years old. Of course, he is still at home. There are good days and bad days. What am I here for? I guess at some point everyone wants friends. Not really been an option that I have capitialized on over the years. I guess over the years I have used him as a shield. Under the guise of protecting him, I have kept the world at bay. This typically is easy to do and so he became my crutch too. There comes a time when you open your eyes and see what you have missed. How purely selfish that decision now seems. I was not protecting him, but myself from rejection. I have no ability to title anything I write. I resort to thinking of the comprehension tests and seeking to choose from a mutiple choice situation. Over the years, I have written many poems and some have been lost. I do not feel I am talented, but would like to preserve what remains for my children. |
Where is she?
Anguish
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