गोने past

poems from a tortured soul
holed up in her room
as the deer pass
i wonder what went through her head
on that last walk of hers..
she described her death so many times
an ancient spirit
a picture years ago
was she a happy girl than
doing ballet
oh what years do
what years bring upon our weary shoulders
alone she fealt
another trip to the hospital
as mother never could really help
she was a big ball of her mothers denial

so much blaim in her words
how could her mother read
on such a dreary day
one letter of suicidal saddness
and sexual dysfunction
mixed with a bottle of anti-deppresants
one hand
my daughter blaims me for my daily terror

but you looked content
under the tree
on your death bed

wish i could have met you
i asked about you oh so many times
give edrea my email
you finally looked at my book
i wonder now seeing your
intelligance
your womanly heavanly highs
did u laugh
did u cry
did you brush me aside

i try to meet you now
i try to ressurect a moment
so i cAN see you

did we ever meet as children?
did we run and play

why did our families divide so
romanly

so separate so apart
a family always divided
from the heart

i wanted to reach out and bridge the gap
now a few letters and poems is all i have left
im sure you knew your death was near
but how my lady?
how?