By dean friedman In the hollow of your arms, snuggled up all safe and warn, You used to tell me tales of unicorns and kings. But how could I comprehend all the things you told me then Of your madness and your struggling? And my mind would swim in fantasies, like a piece of driftwood in the sea. I had no touchstone for reality. you were my reality. Like a dark and unlit room or the far side of the moon, Your insanity spoke emptiness and fear. And no matter how I tried, how I questioned and I pried, I just could not penetrate that thin veneer. And I know you tried to comfort me, to soothe and reassure me. But then your strength would always fail and in it's place a silken veil. Like a dried and wrinkled prune, a deflated toy balloon, I cam home and found you strewn across the floor. And as they lay you on your bed I heard you say, "if I a dead, how come it just keeps on hurting more and more? " And you left me in the early spring. all they said was, "mommy's resting." And how was I to know, so young, it wasn't something I had done? So please try and understand, I will love you as I can. I do not blame you; you're not guilty. But still there's no way to describe the relief I finally found Upon learning it was you, and not me, that was crazy. Bu döküman AkorMerkezi.com'da yayınlanmıştır. http://www.akormerkezi.com