Posted by Susan47 on December 24, 2005, at 19:26:31
It's getting late. Perhaps too late to stop the train, now.
It's coming.
I blinded myself, I tried so hard to be blind,
but I can feel the hand settling down, hard,
on my shoulders,
even now, as I type,
I've called and there's no one answering.
There's no kind voice, there's no understanding, no patience, no more patience left, even the smallest of children needs discipline.
We all fail ourselves, eventually.
Have I done it, have I called doom in upon itself, is the shadow of his hand above me now?
poster:Susan47
thread:591970
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20051205/msgs/591970.html