With time and space between each breath
It seems that they can not be justified
Time a beat, a counted pace
Space a empty void without true thought
This Space between you being here and not
A million thoughts with tears and twists
One question which only leads onto others
That question starter is “What if?”
A feeling, a penance, a punishment on my soul
Even before you left us
It wasn’t your fault, it never will be
Pre-destined, Pre-judged
The fabrication of life itself
I shall carry the scars of the ones you bared
Even if they aren’t as deep or wide
I will never get to know your soul
When you gave birth to mine
I shall never willingly be with child
I shall for-go marital bliss
A shackle, a chain around my soul
I will never miss
I Love my family I always will
Time and space shall not deny this truth
I am my Mothers daughter, I’m just a dead end
I am just waiting to beat that wall with bloodied fists.
Just a Dead End
I wrote this in December of 2005
Mike Paget, 3 months ago
I’m glad you have your art work to console you – it shows you have a beautiful (if battered!) soul.