In my poems, you’re the titan Atlas,
enduring, “holding the roof o’er our heads”;
I’ve seen you master your torrid feelings
but know that you cry at night in your bed;
the same way everyone does.
I hope you can find a wellspring of hope,
the way a tied rope finds itself more rope –
beauty and love and joy suddenly spring,
just because.
Laura says:
Your poetry reminds me of times that were hard, sad and lonely and I wish they didn’t hurt but they do. Hurt me knowing how life handed you trials at every corner, and loneliness at every turn. But I also see the self reserection , the complicity of youth and the strength you have gathered from the enduring storm called life.
April 15, 2020 — 1:23 am