Skeletons
We nestle our skeletons deep in the closet
Where daylight barely reaches
We allow them to collect dust and further decay
Yet we cannot forget about them…
Always present
Always haunting.
Our daily lives continue and an acquaintance asks,
‘How are you today?’
You respond,
‘Good. How are you?’
They stick to the procedure… the script and say,
‘Good. Well, it was nice seeing you.’
And then you part ways.
They’re ignorant of your battles, your fears, and your secrets
And that would probably be their choice, anyway.
After all, who wants to be burdened with problems beyond their own?
We all have our own battles to fight and skeletons to stuff.
Just know, when a stranger’s life appears peachy-keen
Rosy cheeked, and daisy-filled,
That the peaches, roses, and daisies may be withering and wilting
Even if they retain their pleasant fragrance.
This is life.
Human nature.
And it will not change.
We are human
And stuck in our own worlds
Concerned only about our own decaying skeletons.
5-26-09
(Written for a pregnancy, potential diagnosis, and ailing grandmother… it all happens at once)
2 comments:
That is a very sad poem. Life is like that sometimes and I'm sorry everything is affecting you so deeply. We all have demons to deal with. Please think of blessings, too.
Mom is right. But I understand where you are coming from. My great grandmother died and during that week Jason was concieved. I always think of her when I think of Jay's birthday. That is the life shift. Even though Grandma is going to come out of this medical problem, your giving birth is part of this strange but wonderful cycle. The poem is wonderful and insightful. Keep writing. Let's publish your best pieces. A woman I know had a pamphlet of her pieces put together, copied at kinkos and gave them as gifts. They were also personal but insightful and made us all relflect on our own lives. She was going thru a difficult diagnoses as well.
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