I tried, on this day I cried… and then,
Words I needed to write were stuck in my pen.
Tears streaked my cheeks I felt my stomach flip,
Dry heaved I retched sweat gathered on my lip.
The ink thickened my stomach burned,
Try as I might my words had not learned.
Mine were too sad to leave my pen,
To speak of the death caused by men.
Who they had never met or even seen,
those who made their lasts a scream.
who stole mankind’s dreams
and left only deafening screams.
Trying again I lift my pen… and then
I don’t think I will ever find the right words but I wrote these on the night of the terrible atrocities in Paris.
Sadly beautiful. It is a chaotic world.
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Many thanks, nice of you to drop by😇
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So wicked sad and lovely. My heart joins yours.
Hugs!
Sue
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Your visit is most welcome as are your words.
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I will visit more often then!
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Beautiful and moving. I think you captured how a lot of us felt that night.
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Thank you so much.
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That’s beautiful. This ‘specially: “Words I needed to write got stuck in my pen.”
I haven’t used a pen in a while but that really spoke to me.
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Thank you, now my words are now stuck adjacent to the lump in my throat. 😇😯
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