Posts Tagged ‘crying’

Poppy Tears

Wednesday, January 19th, 2011

Even flowers cry sometimes
What do they have to cry about?
They are so pretty

But they won’t stay pretty for long
And it isn’t about being pretty
It is about loosing life
Where did they loose it?
I laughed softly
Resting my hand on her shoulder
I don’t know
Maybe they left it under their bed
And forgot it was there
I did that once
She said with a sad sigh
I know I said smiling
Maybe they lost it
In the playground
Hidden under a sandy Everest
I think I get it
The flowers have lost their petals
And that is why they are sad

Exactly and they cry for each others loss
Then why doesn’t it make me sad?
Different things make different people sad
I say with a frown
Watching the poppy’s tears
Roll down its face
You will understand when you are older
But I want to understand now!
I know, I say with a smile
I know as I guide her away
To happier things
To flowers with open faces
Smiling at the sun
But she will never forget
The crying flower
Knowing that every flower she sees
Will cry someday
For what it lost in the sandbox
Or under the bed
We all loose something in the end

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Shopping Cart (Desperation)

Friday, November 27th, 2009

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There is a baby crying
Uttering wails of fear
As its face contorts
Screaming and screaming
Sitting in a shopping cart
In a nearby empty lot
The baby looks around
Twisting from side to side
Bawling loudly
As it screams for help
But she doesn’t possess
The words to yell
Her tiny hands
Gripping the cold steel
Of the handle bar
Desperation etching
Lines of age
Into the infant’s
Soft face
The woman stands
On the other side
Of her car
She slides down
Against it as her body quakes
Her tiny frame
Rattled by her sobs
That she snuffs out
With a bony fist
The mother sits crying
Curled up into a ball
Wondering
If she should leave
Can she do it
Just walk away
As her child screams
She can’t take it
She can’t do it anymore
She is listening to her
Precious baby wailing
Just feet away
Yet so very far from her
The mother sits
On the edge of a choice
Between love and desperation
She gave everything for her child
And there is nothing left for her
She can’t even feed herself now
She has nothing left to give
Except her love
The infant
And the mother
Are separated by a car
And a long space
A need
And a lack of everything
Stands between them
As they both cry
Wishing for what
Neither of them has
Wondering what comes next

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The Little Princess

Tuesday, November 10th, 2009

I took this photo in Seattle of this little girl and it reminded me of a poem I wrote once, here it is.

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There is a little girl
Sitting on the sidewalk
She cries with little
Hiccups of breath
As silver drops
Run rivers down her face
Her hair bobs with her bouncing breaths
She squeezes her eyes hut
Creasing a face
So soft and young
Making cardboard out of dough
Holding her knee in her hands

I bend as I near her
And crouch down next to her
She hiccups and sniffles
As she tilts her head my way
Her blue eyes swampy
And clouded as a stormy day
Her dress lies in tatters
A wand broken at her side
A basket of belongings
Strewn around her
As if blown into a warfield
I offer a smile
As I block the sun from her eyes
It is the least I could do

Dragging an arm across her face
She looks at me quizzically
“What’s wrong?” I ask
As I survey this battlefield
She looks from me to her dress
As she sniffles again
A Cinderella dress
Ready for the grand ball
I notice her tiara
Rattled in the snarls of her hair
“I fell and ripped my dress”
She whispers in a way only children can
Audible and loud
Yet you have to lean in to hear

“That’s alright” I reply
“Everyone falls down sometimes”
She shakes her head fiercely
As if trying to rid herself of a bad dream
“All I wanted to do”
She cried sobbing all anew now
“Was be a princess
But look at what I have done”
She points to her wand
Broken and destroyed
Looks at her dress
Ruined and dirty
“How can I be a princess now?”

“You don’t need a wand,” I say
As I pick up the pieces
“Or a dress” I put the pieces in her lap
Full of torn and ruffled clothes
“To be a princess all you need
Is a good heart and a quick mind”
Yet again I offer a smile
She tilts her head at me no longer crying
Examining me and my words
As they lay at her feet
I watch as she picks them up
Studies them and their worth
And offers me a smile back in return
Small but honest and true
“Remember that,” I say
“And don’t let anyone tell you otherwise”

I help her to her feet
She sniffles one last time
As she picks up the debris
Of a life she no longer needs
I nod and she nods
I walk past her smiling
I turn back once
And the little princess waves
I wave back
Wishing my little princess in me
Hadn’t left me so long ago

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