A poem can come from a thought, a word, something you saw, an inner feeling, a desire deep inside. This poem came from a deep sadness after hearing of the death by suicide of a dear friend's young son.
TO LOSE A SON.
It seems, in this harsh and callous world
There is no room
For the sweet, the soft, the gentle
Too many compromises to the inner self
Too many cruel realities pierce the heart.
How do you love
When survival bids you
Case your heart in an iron cask
Seal your skin in a titanium sheet
Fulfil the code and not yourself.
With pleasures locked in an inner chamber
Love hidden beneath a smile
Desires crammed in secret corners
All protected from the discordant demands
Of a rapid moving, confusing, pitiless world.
Where do the sweet, the soft, the gentle, find solace
Where can the heart float free
Where can the inner self blossom
Open for all the world to see
Accepted and un-threatened?