Imaginary conversations forever lost in time
Trying to remember; to make it all rhyme
incessant rumination, eternal isolation
a child abandoned, Mother’s irritation
“where did you go?”
“My Daddy is crying”
“I’m hungry and cold”
“why are you lying?”
“what about school?”
“there’s nobody here”
“Why are you cruel?”
“what are these tears?”
“who is that man?”
“I don’t like his smell”
“why did you kiss him?”
“I don’t feel well”
“why don’t you love me?”
“what did I do?”
“I’m sorry if I was naughty”
“Please tell me…what should I do?”
“My Daddy just hurt me”
“with tears in his eyes”
“Then he told me he loved me”
“It’s him I despise”
A final blazing epiphany; screamed into the void
“Mummy… I know why Daddy hit me”
I was the image of You…
I invite you, my fellow poets to consider why we write. Is it a search for empathy ? our goal, to evoke this in the reader? Is it to make people laugh? Is it to raise awareness of injustice? to paint pretty pictures to brighten the day? or maybe just to win hearts?
I guess the answer is ... all of the above but I would value the discussion.