You did not hesitate,
big hands you have,
they did not care
about the world
or little me and mine.
You were my brother,
God had arranged it,
but what you tore asunder
can never heal.
I leave you now,
and know that you,
in all your wildest dreams
could never care.
You have destroyed
what never could be built
again, for either you or me.
The scalpel that you wield
has cut too deep into the flesh,
it cannot ever heal
but it will calm itself
when all the blood
has run its course.
Sorry you were ever put in a situation that lead you to have to write a poem with so much sadness. There is nothing more painful than to endure the loss of respect and severe disapointment inflicted from a family member. With so many strengths... my faith that you will persevere. Much Luv. XO Angie
Yes, the hurt in these words leaps out and bites. I just wish this hurt was not really your own, Herbs. Love and kindness to you, Gina.
This is a departure from your usual light-hearted fare and I find this perhaps more real than all the rest. The pain is palpable and the images very real. Beautiful write, Herbert.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Whatever the situation that put you here my frien will pass. You will be stronger and wiser in the end.