Poem -
all that's not
It will not be nursed
it will not be soothed
This thing of mine to keep
It never is still
it never isĀ pleasant
This thing it never sleeps
It will not be rocked
or sated
or mothered
It hands reach my face
till all breath is smothered
It never leaves
does not know peace
It cries out lonely in its cot
It is not grief
is not named grief
For grief it settles to dead rot
It is grief's child
abandoned child
It pines for all that's not
M ~
Ā
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Comments
Bloody brilliant. Perfectly worded x
Thankyou kind lady xx