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Sanjali Oct 2020
I care for you
Bring you some blankets
And we stay in the cocoon

I want to care for you
Warm towels on your head
And some pepper in your soup

I’m there for you
To snuggle or listen
On my lap there you’ll be too

I care for you
Hoping you sleep well
And feel better soon.
Ashley S Sep 2020
Who knows why you finally did it?
The pain of living felt worse than death.
So decisive and certain you were.
A gun's swift act took your last breath.

I hope you have peace in the life beyond.
So young yet your pain had grown too great.
Did you not know there's still so much hope?
Could no one soothe the wounds in your heart?

Now I work to keep your body alive.
Your soul has long left its source of pain.
I watch your parents sit and weep,
Crying to have their child back again.

Would you have done it if you knew what came after?
For your family, the picture will always stay fresh.
Your face unrecognizable to those who knew you.
Your skull a mutilated mass of flesh.

Yet still there is hope at the end of this nightmare.
Others may find life through your demise.
Each ***** a lifeline for a soul in the balance.
But that does not comfort your parent's cries.

Do I sob in grief or rejoice in new life?
As I continue to keep a body working.
I feel the weight of the duty I carry.
The guardian of both the end and beginning.

I wish you and your family all comfort and peace.
I go home and leave the work behind.
But I could never forget what I saw in these days.
The sights and smells have their place in my mind.
Processing...A mix of heartbreak and hope.
Annie Mar 2020
I had a dream
Leaping stone to stone
Above a stream
Beneath me faces
Of the dead and old
Around the mist
Of the silent cold

I ran from place to place
Enflaming candlelight
Step by step along
A never ending staircase
Arriving on the top of
A tower, left alone

Haunted by a wooden rockinghorse
I threw down marble stone

By which I made a sacrifice
To fires burning bright
That saved me with its blazing flame
Within this bitter night

(And when I woke I saw it clear
As morning sun after a storm
My memories I couldn't bear
Still stuck in me like roses thorns)
A dream I experienced after assisting my first ***** donation.
Mrs Timetable Mar 2020
Dear baby me:
You were wrinkled
You had no hair
Couldn't walk
Couldn’t formulate a thought
Cried a lot
Couldn't see too clear
Couldn’t distinguish what I hear
Can’t figure out how
I am so much like that now
It happened too fast
Why didn't my youth last
Seemed in an instant
I was no longer an infant
I knew nothing of life
But sure now it’s with strife
I remember way back when
I can’t remember now and then
It’s just not really fair
Being old with flair
No one forgot the baby you see
I hope no one forgets the now me
rk Feb 2020
is how you affect me almost every day
is why i wake up and work hard for you every day
Cathy Feb 2020
I wish you every comfort
As you settle now to sleep
You can do it all your own way
There’s no timetable to keep
I know that you can hear me
But can’t express your need
But you don’t need to worry
Every tiny sign I’ll heed
Any possible discomfort
I will soothe away
All love respect and care
That it’s possible to pay
Is yours for now and always
As it comes upon your time
And the privilege of caring
Is forever mine
Carlo C Gomez Nov 2019
The day you feared is here!
They've been pressed
into service.
Oh, new Dad
don't be jealous now.
Sharing is caring.
Yes, they're still your
But now they've received
a higher calling:
To nourish your offspring.
Inspired by something funny my wife said this morning
Afraid of existing not living
Terrified of my freedom being banished
Horrified of my privacy being invaded
No say at all how or when I choose to sleep or sit stand or walk and being allowed to breath the fresh air.
My mind is sick but I should be allowed to live my last days as if it were my last .
not  vanish into thin air
Tess Nicholson May 2019
Mouthing memories of
dumpster feasts.
Wandering or sleeping
in backs of cars or
tucked up into
cold carboard beds.
No warmth and lullabies
just harm, harm, harm.

Abruptly at the doorstep
with garbage bag suitcases.
Talons, overgrown and sharp,
dig up wonderbread skin;
clawing at what has burrowed there.
Smearing up their faces-
war paint so red, red, red.

Narcaned neonates
with powerranger prayers.
Echoing mockingbird profanity
in hollow, hungry mouths-
battle cries and spit.
Playing war in the backyard,
consequences for keeps.

Thin arms and legs sprawl, alien,
decorating the floors with despair.
Spilling out of doorways like lamplight.  
Moving in the night as
feral things do.
Cooing out “mother?”
As I pass in the dark.
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