My thoughts, my nightmares too.
They do plague me right straight threw.
The horrid flashbacks that seem to reel,
with no deny of lost,; REVEAL!
I speak of the parenting, please repeal,
that did raise me inside surreal.
Feeling sick and constant meal,
of every moment
they're words were real.
Plagued with fear, I work from "hear".
Please don't let them curse, adhere!
We'll get better, I suppose,
I seem to have the gift of prose.
Keep your fingers crossed, I say.
There will be another day.
Swallow hard for they're afraid,
we might write about their grave.
Mine would make great windows of,
stain glass finish from above.
I won't give up if you swear,
to meet me in the end,
a dove!
Karen A. Placek
4/27/2011
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