Monday, August 01, 2005

Fragile Things

"Don't step on the glass," mother said
Like the rusted sky was falling
Or papa was dying again.
Things are always breaking

Like waves on a rocky shore. We never get a break from the tears.
Mother's always crying
And even though I've gathered sandbags for years
I still feel the water rising.

Papa said there was a god,
He said I should believe. "Mercy on us," he whispered.
Then he was gone, to rot,
In the ground. Mother was left to wither,

Like a white flower on his grave. "Mercy on us," she said,
"The sky is crashing down again."

~Anonymous Princess

1 Comments:

At 6:54 PM, Blogger Imogen Crest said...

I love the images here, especially the sandbags. There is a very special sentiment at work here - very nice reading. A nice feeling of melancholy too..

 

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