Janice M Pickett
Thunder, followed by the harsh adrenalin rush
As lightening illuminates the unsuspecting
fragments of shattered nerves.
The spinning feeling which sets the unbalanced pivot
crashing against a pounding brain.
Which was is up?
Which way is any way at all?
Nobody understands how the pain rips
Right into the innermost corners of a false reality
Touched by fear,
Set alike by a cruel twist of fate
Beaten by the never ending knowledge
That it will happen, over and over again
Craving a peace that never comes
An gentle breeze to caress an aching heart
The smell of the sea and the warm embrace
Of the sun as it beats down
with a promise of a better tomorrow
God knows the answers
Why is he so tough on those who do right by him?
Everything goes full circle
The world is round
Everything has good and bad
There is always an opposite
A positive and a negative
Dreams are always there to encourage us to aim
For their fulfillment
To realize them as our goals
To wake up looking for the rainbow after a storm
The fresh smell of the earth
Kissed by gentle raindrops during the night hours
Why does the whole pattern of life
therefore parch our souls like the dessert?
Why does it make us cry like frightened babies?
Where is fairness and kindness?
Where is the desire to achieve?
We have our support group. This that say they love us.
Those who say we are special.
Those who bring the joy we all need,
and could feel inside.
When the next storm comes
we are no better prepared for that first lightening strike.
No calmer in our fragmented hearts.
We will just sink deflated into our armor shield,
until the storm dies down again.
The pounding as the heart feels the emotions good and bad.
Which way will the next trauma go?
There are many paths to take.
But to walk away would bring yet another kind of pain.
To stay could destroy years of already lost life and love.
Which way to turn? Which way to run?
Do you ask for forgiveness? Even when you know you are not to blame.
Now the brain has joined the constant pounding of the heart.
Both are playing the same song of woe.
I do not know the answer. I do not know the question.
I do not know our fate
I only know
that this storm in my heart
is tearing me to shreds
Janice M Pickett's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (*Thunder* by Janice M Pickett )
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