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Aug 2013
Today
such sadness got in the way,
                        of a blue cloudless day,
                                       spotless.

She quit, she said she has had enough,
she is done,
the black clouds
of poison and
thunder have... Won

They coil around
without constriction,
pressure and a little restriction
to prove they ARE real
and her life
is in
       complete
                     disrepair.

My eyes saw the tears
fall and my ears heard the sobs
and heard them
land through earpiece of the
phone, our hearts broke
together, but only I heard it
and only she felt it.

The air became still.  As more clouds
moved in and began to leak out of
my phone.

Today sadness won, she has
no spoons left with to defend
herself, I hope that sleep will
put in new ones overnight or
some one will find the ones
and give them back with all
that tarnish gone.

Would she get out of bed,
be able to lift her head
off of the pillow, if she
started the day already
with no spoons?

I have searched and searched,
crawled on my brittle knees,
I must be blind after all or maybe
the spoons are all deaf, they
don't hear my call or my prayer,
God,
         please
                    forgive my
                                      weakest moments
                           when
                 I am
        not
able
to be
the
cushion
the
shock absorber
the
comforter
the
teddy bear
the
blanket
the
listener
the
finder of the spoons.

So let it rain so it hides
my tears, please rain,
wash it away, wash the black
clouds, take them away.

I must go she needs me...
Rough day, one of many
laughter helps only while
it is heard, writing poetry
is not absurd it is my release
to bad it can not cure the disease.


©DWE082013
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
364
   Claire R
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