Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

A Better Life

 

The car jolted.

Her weary eyes 

opened slowly

Like mechanical shutters 

 

Flickering through trees,

the dying sunlight

stabbed at her sight

with golden shards.

 

Mouth dry

Limbs weak

Clothes damp

Daddy?

 

A stench of sweat 

Lingered in tobacco air 

Made her cough

Made her gag

 

Where's Daddy?

she croaked

Muffled laughter

Gone!

 

Her throat

So sore

So dry

Sodium

 

The trees had darkened

to shadows

They swayed hypnotically

Became waves

Became the tumultuous sea

 

She couldn't breathe

Felt her Father's hand

Slipping

Leaving her

 

Down! Keep down!

 

The rabid waters crashed,

Raked its foaming jaws

across all that he was

And swallowed him whole

 

Another jolt

 

She cried out!

Throat burned

The trees returned

Now dark and twisted 

 

Reaching

Beckoning

Comforting

Strangely comforting...

 

Gravel crunched below

Trees disappeared 

A driveway

The moon in its entirety

 

Out!

A House

A door

Cracked & peeling

 

But...

 

Out!

She clicks the handle

Stumbles 

Legs of stone

 

Approaches the door

Tired

So tired

It creaks open

 

Shadows reach out

like tendrils

Creeping upwards

Passed shin and waist, 

Engulfing her face

'till only eyes remain

Wide & glistening

in moonlit despair

 

'My, my, aren't you a little beauty'

 

And, already, 

she thinks 

That his smile 

Is as monstrous

As any raging sea

 

 

🌷(7)

immigrationModern slavery

◄ Who?

A Love Song (forever) ►

Comments

Profile image

Stephen Atkinson

Fri 29th Jan 2021 20:03

Thank you very much Lisa. I wrote the first stanza without knowing where it was going, then, basically, it wrote itself. Sometimes it happens. Bit sad that you can relate to some things in it, but, I guess, we all have our own private heart aches. I wish you well ?

Profile image

lisa donohoe

Fri 29th Jan 2021 17:35

I loved how it came from the soul. Pain creates the most beautiful pieces and writing helps to express the emotions we bury within our selfs. I felt her pain and I could relate in many ways and I'm sure other readers could to.

Profile image

Stephen Atkinson

Fri 29th Jan 2021 17:13

Thanks for the Likes on my rather depressing poem (if it even is a poem!)... I'll do a happy one next ?

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message