On the outside

How does it feel

to see but not

speak? To lie there

while it eats you

alive before your vision.

You’ve done well up

till now; fifty years

celebrated. But now this.

You might recover, so

we’ve been told but

miracles are rarely given

out on Thursdays. Maybe

Friday will give a

much better account of

itself and you will

jump up and bound

out to be with

your loved one and

friends. And laugh at

all the silly things

that people laugh at.

And endlessly chatter like

it’s the only valid

expression when together. And

you can dream again

as you did beforehand.


© 2017 L. Tafa









Author: b20f08

I enjoy solo wargaming and writing. The first caters to the boy that never grew up; the latter satisfies a deep desire to communicate. Cheers.

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