Waste LandA Poem by H. A. M.Inspired by having my work wiped away to natural disaters and the survivors of such.It’s one of those moments where I have to ask God a favor. Not for money or more stuff or good times to savor. Just to help me to be strong for the day. Okay? Also please don’t delay. Most life lessons are learned thru hard ship. Go thru a little turmoil. Experience a little or a lot of discomfort. But this is too much. My garden and pieces of my soul,,,,, are gone. The tombstones left for me to be the care taker of bench mark the time I spent here. A slate now forced clean Understand where I’m from ,,,a place where they dropped A bomb. ,,,,,not But still under the sun. I wonder,,, should I replant my garden in radio active soil? Should I rebuild my home on Ground Zero? I won’t beg the dying to stay or the living not to leave. I understand why. Some lessons received come from the worst of times. Experiences we go thru have made us wiser. So I can’t see how me being shielded from life is going to help me grow. Still I wish I was on a better learning curve. Now the requests go from “Save me and deliver me.” and “Spare me from the pain” to “Bless me in my misery and don’t disdain.” Do I plant seeds in unstable soil? If weeds want to grow here then I will too. But still… ,,,,,how barren the wasteland is,,,,,, …without you. … … ..
© 2008 H. A. M.Author's Note
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3 Reviews Added on March 2, 2008 AuthorH. A. M.St.Louis, MOAbout"I hope you live to be one hundred years old and me a hundred minus a day so I won't know good people like you passed away." DJ Phylosophy. Hey YOU! Sorry for the absence. I'm having conection pro.. more..Writing
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