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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?!
~Angie
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
