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Breakdown

Rating: 5.0

In madness
stoking the fires of Hell
my father, was, in truth,
unwell.

In watching, I too,
felt the same,
felt the hurt
of some devils game.

An overtaking, unexplained,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
James Timothy Jarrett 20 January 2013

And what is truth? We make our own truth in the end. I am who I say I am. I make myself who I say I am

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Eindaray Kyaw 13 September 2012

very good way you present your idea..Great! ! !

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Saadat Tahir 30 August 2012

superb lines written with gnawing realization of time running out.... helplessness and the decree of years tackled so well...almost scary loved reading it ***

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Diane Hine 25 August 2012

Frightening, when we witness the distress of those we love. A fine poem.

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Joseph Anderson 15 August 2012

A potent write-the pain shows through. One never knows until we experience it. This is profoundly disturbing

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Heather Wilson 14 August 2012

A very heartfelt write,

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Valerie Dohren 14 August 2012

Very meaningful write - good one Sally.

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