Silent Suffering

Fountain pen in hand

I write one more letter to a man

who cannot read my soul any longer

who waits for me at the gates of death

a present on Christmas morning

and I long for the silence

of my heart

like the deep cold snow that fell during the night

quieting the roar

of the season

but not the roar of pain

within my chest

 

LAS copyright 2016  all rights reserved

 

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