Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Father

Surrounded by soft whimpers that begin to fill the air.
The dark smell of death seemed to invade the dim lit corridor.
All the way from his room.
The room where he lay motionless.
A disfigured face left by a lifeless man.
He's not coming back.
This is not the man I knew.
This is not my....
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2 comments:

karina said...

I really like this poem hun - it strikes a chord with me.

K

Eileen... to the right. said...

I guess that might be because you have been there before and understand .... love ya babe!