I do miss the children

I do miss the children
that slipped through the fingers
night after night while I
rolling the dice behind bars
on alien streets
ran from one day into the next

the frailty of love’s doing
tends to sink in sore sand or
flow with dark abuse
never looking back
that is so wrong
and night is no relief

little girl running
in a silent parking lot
father lost for breath
dives again and again
breaking crystal vases
of his own short doing

loss is a burning venom
soldiering so much guilt
a saddle slung on regret
little girl is my core
the gasping shortness
we call dream

Poetry by Bob
Read 346 times
Written on 2017-05-03 at 21:59

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Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
This is heartbreaking. I wish life were longer and we had time to grow up ourselves before we had children. I felt I was growing at the same time as they were and suddenly I was a grown up and they were gone from home.
Excellent poem to reflect upon.

josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
I miss mine too Bob. Your poem touches my heart.