In autumn
I try to imagine
That cooling nights
Are only Spring
Returning.

I imagine
Planting the garden
Again,
But old Frost
Reminds me
That second childhood
Is only the precursor
Of winter's death.

I loved so much
I became just a husk
Drained of all the goodness
within.
Though my heart is intact
Every facet it lacks
May as well
Be hung on a hook.

So it began, my life of pain
Covered in shame
Step-dad laid his claim

So it began, my life of woe
Down the rabbit hole
Some known how the story goes

So it began my life of tragedy
It happened so rapidly
It is now my woven tapestry

So it began, my life of regrets
Sadly it's not over yet
Impaled daily on life's bayonet

©Pauline Russell

Over the hill and far away
Is where the make believe must play
The dreamers, inventors
The wishers and tempters.

How high such a hill
Should rise from the ground
And oh what a cackle
Has come from its crowd.

What glee and temptation
And lacking contemplation
Has thrown out such an awful menace
And now we, the outsiders do the penance.

Out of sight and out of mind
Has a one sided hangover I find.