My Brother (Being and Nothingness)
My brother was born and then died the same day.He lived for an hour - and faded away.
Had I but known him I'd have asked him to stay.
I sometimes imagine his soul as a leaf
of perennial forests - achingly brief.
It staked out my path in this life - towards grief.
I long to be free of this unkown despair
to pass on the pain and to embrace the fair.
The price of compassion means having to care.
My brother was born and then died the same day.
The gaze of a child born to death is dismay -
hands groping for hope found but chubby decay.
Poetry by An-ders
Read 659 times
Written on 2011-08-31 at 13:46
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