Poem -
Gift
I'll never forget the fear that I felt, when you pinned me against the door.
Your breath on my face, your hand round my neck, as you pushed me down to the floor.
A foot in my ribs, the sting of the pain, striking me blow after blow.
The look on your face, the tears in my eyes, a love now turned into foe.
But now that you're gone, the pieces I'll mend, each day a new day to come.
I have to be strong, and rebuild my life, as I'm now left with a child so young.
He is all that I need, and all that I stand, so for him I must go on.
There is nothing more I love in this world, than the precious gift of my son.
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Comments
There's a remarkable juxtaposition between the jaunty, almost sing-song, meter of your verses here and the grim, rather brutal, imagery and subject matter.
That same juxtaposition conveys a sense of ultimate triumph; as though it were a poetic cry of victory.
An accomplished and joyous (ultimately, thankfully!) work.
Welcome to Cosmofunnel.
J ;)
Thank you for your lovely comments!
I actually sang the verses out loud in a very metronomic way as I was writing them, tapping out the rhythm on my chest for each verse, so thank you for noticing :)