Like an island in the stream, caught in a maelstrom.
Life streams on, flows past you.
Stuck in vortex on an island of rose bushes.
Tearing thorns from loss, beautiful flowers of memories.
Stream of life passes by, calling you out again.
How can I leave this island of roses?
How can I leave this comfort of pain?
Waiting for the flood to wash me of.
Should I make a raft of rose bushes?
A raft to float down the stream of life.
A raft of loss and memories.

Writing is a way to deal with things in life. After loosing my son some weeks ago I have struggled to find the strength to write again. Writing this helps me deal with the sorrow and if it can help anyone else I will be glad. Please share, like, comment and subscribe. Also check out my other posts.

Categories: PoetryTags: , ,

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