For Laurel, who held my hand while my father died.


"Cry" She Said



"Cry" she said,
"It's good for you."
How can it be?
When it gives me a headache,
Swells my eyes,
Perverts my nose,
Blocks every channel
Inside of me,
Like a pressure cooker,
That can't let off steam.

"Cry" she said.
No, I want to calm down,
Damn tranquilizer has no effect.
My grief,
Is stronger,
Than any man-made drug.




Poetry by Esti D-G
Read 837 times
Written on 2005-10-12 at 12:51

Tags Grief 

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Teala
Powerful, Emotional, and deep. I love it!
2005-10-25