Wednesday

I'm too tired to be original today. So, I offer a couple of very short poems that I wrote some time ago.

Childhood

The child within is dead.
Hung upon a cross.
Battered and raped.
Raped and bloodied.
The mouth slack.
The eyes sightless.
The child within is dead.


Mom


The mom is broken.
Who will care for her?
No one.
Who will pick up the pieces?
No one.
The mom is broken.
Who will care for her?