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Sunday, July 12, 2020


WORDS FAIL ME

As they did everyone else
It became far too chemical a thing
For talk to intervene

Corralled in self, and the struggle to survive
Love, the gift, edged out
By her need to receive

An impatient world hurried her through our plodding ways
People, palliatives,
Who knows what there was?
The guys, the highs,
The lows, doses, sizes
Cut short her time with us
Now the future, an eternal unsaid, unheard.

In the end she chose a private out
No thought to who would do the rig-a-ma-roll
And put her where her kids could go.

She impressed me with her survivability
Until the tragedy
The one we feared
Her end, at home in bed

We like to think life has no end.
Magic on the other side will help her find
a demon free place with the rest denied among our kind.

But rest may elude her even there
A loving God may busy her
One on one
Challenge her
With a world of work undone.

DRK
10/11/11
7/12/20


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