As a noisy three-year-old, I annoyed my brothers and they put me out on the veranda to keep me quiet. I fell asleep...it was December...I awoke in hospital with double pneumonia.


Child of Death



They watched T.V.
And I slept,
Slept,
Like a child of
Death,
While you
Cheered
The goals,
I froze
Slowly,
All nite
Long,
Abandoned,
In the chill of
Death,
Like a child
Of death.

Mother came to wake me
As I lay
On the frozen
Asphalt.
She shrieked
Her usual
Shriek
Never graceful
Under pressure,
And rushed me
To the infirmerie.




Poetry by Esti D-G
Read 621 times
Written on 2007-09-19 at 22:03

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Stan Cooper The PoetBay support member heart!
Now-a-days, it's called child abuse...

Glad you're still here

xxxx Stan
2007-11-07


Rob Graber
A chilling experience...
2007-09-19