Gaping Holes Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

A single thread of illness,
One has in mind...
And accepted over time,
Will eventually fray what has been sewn...
To be shown and detected as problematic.

But the effects overwhelmingly seen...
Will never correct or mend,
Those gaping holes...
In a family of assorted fabrics.

All waited too late to make attempts...
Pretending a nonexistence in its making,
Had begun a slow unravelling.
Thinking the occurrence of this illness,
Was something to dismiss.

However,
Allowing just one piece of thread...
To pull them 'consciously' apart,
Becomes apparently obvious when viewed...
In the most inappropriate of places.
As this illness decays with intention.

'Wait a minute!
So what I had been told,
Was not true? '

~What you had been 'told' to believe,
Never existed.~

'Well...
How did all of this begin? '

~That should be easy for anyone to detect,
NOW.
A squeaking wheel ignored claiming to be victimized,
Has a way of getting louder and louder...
With a gaining of momentum as time goes on.
And all knew from the beginning,
Where the noise was coming from.~