This one came from spending time with a father whose son is an alcoholic. His frustration, his tears, his anger and the undying hope that one day, his child will be cured... A poem without edits.


Tears in the deep

Preparing to pour down my face,
I still the tears that threaten. And yet
they conspire in the back of my throat.

What fate is this, to me decreed,
that unable to cry, my heart must bleed?


Summer colors run like crimson skies opened up
to unleash their fury, leaving my world
a wintry gray with stray wisps of orange.

Questions pile up, accusations insane;
Sometimes I wonder who is to blame.


Is there no way to reroute the path to the road
little feet once trod? There must be a way out
if there is a way in, even on a one-way street.

Don't tell me all hope is gone, there is color around me yet.
They may be buried in frost, but the roots of love are deepset.


Unable to help, my eyes must watch
dreams and hopes being drowned day after day
in ennui by a siren enshrined in sparkling glass.

Perhaps the answers to silent pleas must lie in quiet
Until they can come awake on a storm-tossed night.





Poetry by Soft Words
Read 568 times
Written on 2008-07-19 at 07:00

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Kathy Lockhart
your emotional awareness is so well expressed. you are a beautiful soul and a wonderful healer and poet. xx kathy
2008-07-28