LOST INNOCENCE
After Mom died, I curled
in our clover patch,
my cherubic lips cursing
the night's first star
and all its promises.
After he left me, I ripped up
our fence, pickets tearing
my soft palms, pansies
scattering, their spindly roots
groping for air.
After the towers toppled, I questioned
the ground, feeling the earth's fear
imprint my sturdy feet,
it's cries lodge, pulsating
in my gut.
Now I cower and wait, flinching
with dread, knowing teeth gnash
under my bed, while God
nods off playing chess
with the Devil.
by Caroline Reichard
Thanks for reading!
This is some good piece of poetry. I can feel the loss and the pain that you have mentioned in the poem.
Keep writing poetry.
Thank you! 😊 I'm glad it touched you.
Bravo
Thanks!😊
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