Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Wednesday's Woe - Secondary Wounds

Wednesday's Woe

Secondary Wounds

Losing you was more than I could bear.

It seems, when your life stopped, so did mine.

Five years out, I cannot pay death's fare;

It's hard to work when my heart does pine.

It's almost all I can do to cope;

All my energy is called to bear

T' carry grief's burden 'nd hold onto hope ~

Seems harder than anyone's fair share!

But when loved ones pile on with their vice,

Tis th' straw of th' proverbial camel's back ~

Of all folks, they should know t' be nice;

When they are not, they deserve a smack!

My grief may be too hard for them t' bear;

I'm thankful for special ones who can,

But th' least they can do for me is C-A-R-E,

And on their own vices, call a ban!

Secondary wounds weigh heavier at times:

Loving you brings tears, makes it hard to see,

But loved one's vice piled on, downright blinds ~

Grieving you, I expect; their attacks blind-side me.

Have mercy you who are called to love ~

Do you not know you'll answer to th' One above?!


When I read a friend's poem of the same theme, I was struck by how much of a "pushover" I still may be. My poem seems so tame next to hers. She graciously gave me permission to share her version with you! Thank you Vickie!

For Everyone Who Knew The Old Me

Don't tell me you understand

Just lend me a shoulder or a hand.

Don't judge me if you do not know

how I feel to lose my son.

If you have nothing nice to say

You are right Just stay away.

The old me is gone

and NO you don't know

Leave us alone

if you can't be kind.

None of us are the same

You should be ashamed

You think all the possibilities through

of what you can say

when I finally get to talk to you.

Life goes on you say so well......

I pray you are never stuck in this hell.

Parents are gone

uncles and aunts

and you want to compare

what we don't share.

Because you asked a friend

you say

well funny that friend

is yours, not mine.

If you don't understand

it is fine.

I pray you don't have to walk in my shoes.

So maybe you're right to leave me alone

You say I'm So sensitive

Walk in my shoes for one hour one day

and then I will listen to what you have to say.

Thanks for the thoughts , the cards, the words

you couldn't even do that

it was too hard.

I just want you to know

the pushover I was

is gone for good.

For those of you who knew the old me.

~Vickie Warrington Davis

Picture, thanks to FotoSearch
Poem - Secondary Wounds - Angie Bennett Prince - 10/3/2011
Poem, For Everyone Who Knew the Old Me, is by Vickie Warrington Davis


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