After out son Doron’s tragic death, my late husband and I found a well-worn, notebook on his bedside table. It was filled with poems that he’d scribbled at odd times; thoughts he’d put down on paper. Painstakingly we deciphered them but were unable to read the contents immediately. It was far too upsetting. We put it in our study for perusal later; much, much later. One evening, we sat together on the same couch where Doron had spent so many hours, doing little but stare out of the large window at our garden and started reading. Our hearts broke once again. How many times can one’s heart break?
NO ONE TO HELP ME - ‘I’LL DANCE ON YOUR GRAVES.’
I never thought
I’d be as dependent as
an innocent lamb is
on its mother’s milk.
I am dependent on the charity of
good people and bad people
but to date, I haven’t met
anyone who can help me.
Certainly not my parents.
I’ll dance on their graves.
AUTUMN
Summer has gone
There’s no sun, no sea
No tanning on white sand.
I’m waiting for the leaves to fall.
Winter, I await you.
I wait to hail the start of the cold.
I close my windows and
won’t let THEM in.
LIFE IS DIFFICULT
Life is difficult sometimes
but we have to find small flashes of light
to lessen the depth of the gloomy darkness
that gets more profound
with the ticking of my clock.
It gives me a dimension of time.
Those points of light are vague during the day,
barely visible,
so I ask; ‘Is it worth living for two or three minutes a day?’
FRIENDS
My friends are having fun;
one abroad, one recently returned
all living full lives.
Only I am incarcerated in a crazy cage
without a past, without a future.
MY DOCTORS
‘We’ve tried to help you
my doctors claim.’
But, they set a trap for me.
I fell into a bottomless pit
that they dug for me.
THEM
THEY enter stealhily
in the dead of night.
The storm inside of me
turns to fear.
What do THEY want from a pauper?
Peace, peace, peace.
I pray for peace of mind.