often i wish i had -
but i didn't
held the boy so closely
to me,
sung him songs
as he slept,
hugged him tighter
day by day
but, just like the
dreams i had,
he lies forgotten
... unremembered
crushed by dead weight
yelled at, scowled at
touch, defiled;
all innocence
gone.
i hadn't seen, i couldn't see
so i wish that i could be
the boy i hadn't saved from me.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Pieces
PoetryWhat happens when the image of self is lost? Where does one begin to look for their 'self'? Broken Pieces is a collection of poems that explores and addresses the emotions that make us human: love, the absence of, and the discovery of love for self...
