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THE FEAR OF EMPTINESS

empty-room-green-living-with-picturesShow me that fellow who rests assured
When the rain pelts heavily on his roof
Hitting and attacking like a beast
Eager to dissect its shivering prey.

Show me that woman who bears her head high
When her babe loses its life to cancer
Unshaken by bitter whips to mourn
And irresolute about losses upon losses.

Show me that youth whose days wear off
Like an old and dying dyed taffeta
Yet hurries not to use the sunshine
While the day starts tilting to night.

Show me that infant who is not afraid
Of being left alone on that wide mattress
With its mother out in the field
Too far away to sate its emptiness.

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2 thoughts on “THE FEAR OF EMPTINESS

  1. In all thinking and searching through my labyrinthine muse, I do not see not-know not and whisker a hole in my fuss; but would a mother not go out to the fields? Would the living not die, would beauty not corrupt?

    You have not wrong, doesn’t mean the other school of thought is guilty; in the right time, we would be fine and would get over our grieves and pain without pretence nor guile.

    Liked by 1 person

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