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?
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