Hating Pain

Sat, 01/31/2015 - 14:13 -- k8carr

An old woman fragile, worn and somehow

worried. Past pieces surface in the

Vast ocean of an aged mind.

 

But who is there to listen to the

Knowledgeable thoughts but to find them

Confused, agitated, think the mind

Gone, with a worry

Past yet presenting itself.

 

My mother, I've

Become her. Held by

Pain. Deterred, distracted. I

 

Hated her

Pain.

 

My Pain.

It is so

Deep inside me.

The hidden

 

Insides.

How can I

Hate what is

Inside me without

Hating me.

 

Did I

Hate her

 

 

She thinks to herself,

Again.

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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