My Requiem

Water droplets
well in
the
corner of my seeing.

I wipe them away,
before
they have
a chance to live,
a
chance
to be seen.

My sons
must not see
my weakness,
because
they drown
in their
own sorrow.

Love
lies lifeless
and I can not
bear
to look
on the whiteness
of cheeks
that once bloomed
like
an American
beauty rose.

I cannot
brooke
the gaze form
accusing emerald eyes.
Why am I dead,
they ask?
Why are you alive?

My children’s
sobbing breath,
steals my sadness,
my private sorrow.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Literary, Literature

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s