wrinkles
poem by:
Jude Kyrie
Written
on Jan 31, 2015
I know it was me my fault. How I need to see you just once not to talk just to see you alive and beautiful. Just for a moment. In my bedroom drawer the pictures that were us. No longer in glass frames smashed in a fit of desolation. Now a wad of history under old birthday cards. I lay them gently on the table Smoothing them. As if I could smooth the wrinkles you left in my life.
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A previous user commented:
Reading your poem brought up feelings in me about my father. I felt he was stolen from me in life than in death. I wanted him to see me making him proud.So much of his life i didn't know about.If you look closely you will see her in everything you do everyday. The alive and beautiful is YOU.
