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still your daughter.
I wish you understood that
the storm in my eyes is not meant to
strike down your branches but i just have trouble
holding the flood above my palpebral dam and
concealing the darkening and contorted surface of my planet
I wish you understood that
the aftermath was never yours to
rummage through and salvage but instead a mess you
must learn to see from your view and
still hold all the bits and pieces in your arms and call it your daughter
Still your daughter:
I like your poem very much, although brief it says so much.It's nice to have someone close to hold us when our world falls apart. Great enjoyed reading .
http://www.postpoems.org/authours/a.griffiths57
Very nice... I like it.
Very nice... I like it.
...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."
"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "