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An Old Leather Chair Tenderly in a mother's arms A child suckles without alarm The cradle of that child fair, Maternal breast and an old brown chair. A lullaby is faintly sung With echoes from a familiar tongue. We glance away and witness too clear The danger lurking terribly near. A silent eye peers beyond The window glass, a shattered bond. Fury feeds where once was joy Rage mercilessly rips away the boy. The perfect scene, diminished to naught Kaleidoscope tears in memory sought. A single slash the leather bare, A stain of red, the past is here. A childhood lost in solitary act. A future crumpled by forgotten pact. The chair remains, melody gone A grown-up hums the mother's song. Locked behind the bars and steel Three lives condemned, two left to feel. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Lora Silvey On Date: 2005-11-01 14:29:14
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.97619
Marsha,
This is such an unique poem. Your structure is good, your flow excellent and the rhyme helps to move the reader right along. It also was a very difficult piece for me to read personally, the images conjured had me on the edge of heartbreak somewhere between outright rage and tearful questions. I know the heartbreak of loosing a child, your poem quite simply took my breath away turning my mind into chaos. You have a very fine tuned poignant offering here and one that all should read and hear the message in their heart. I look forward to more of your work with eagerness. Thank you for sharing your gift with us. Kudos!
Always,
Lora