The shadows lengthened
Sky turned pale; I looked on
There was charm even on a sinking face
Lynched by cancer- a life pledged, to be more aware
More tolerant, and more responsible, more loving
Awake with unsuspected powers; or
May be with the visions of terminal horrors
Lovely as a flower… she was withering
The smell of medicines gave me chronic insomnia
All I could do was write poetry all night
The muscles of the mind picked up power
Soaking emotional excesses...
Poems of the long road, unsteady nights
Healed the weight of the restless hours...
I’m happy that I've taken a stab at writing poetry. I write poems to heal myself. The above poem has reference to my personal experience with my mother-in-law, when she was admitted in a hospital in her last days. Writing really helped me get through the hard time.
Kim, that was indeed a wonderfully therapeutic prompt....
Written for http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.ca/2013/05/verse-first-poetry-heals.html// Poetry Heals..