Purple Season Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Purple Season' —

I miss my daughters
I don't know why I'm so strong
Living my life like I don't care
I don't belong
I'm tearing up inside
For both of you

Tears are only the eye's glass plates
They've been breaking for you
For years
What's another sharp sting
When you're as numb as a corpse?

One girl missing beyond the grave
A smile of serenity
That would make your heart sing and bleed
Knowing it had a purple season without any leaves
And yet as fragile as a daffodil
With moments full of verve

Another who'll never be
My daughter, my friend again
Who's disowned me
Whose love is now a full-stop at the end of every day
To a line that was never written,
A story that didn't evolve past

chapters 4,5 and 6
I miss my daughters
I don't know why I'm so strong
Little buds of sorrow
Are going to swell in the dark
And bloom in the light
If you're strong enough to struggle
Climb to the heavens, even in the night

Dark accomplices
They guard the gates to happiness
Like gargoyles leering on a wedding congregation
Playing a organ that's never been tuned
Banging a drum
Only the dead at heart will follow
And find a chorus to hum
To a march that'll lead you nowhere
But only further from yourself