|
Trouble
by Dana E BrossardPain twisting and knotting,
My back screaming in anger,
Fire that flows through me.
Pounding and hammering,
My head reeling in torment,
Thunder crashing inside me.
Sleep, I do grasp for it,
Rarely though I capture,
The sweetness desired.
Though when I do,
Nightmares of terror,
Horror that fills me.
So sad, so tired,
The pain and ill,
Feel well, I do not. 04/06/2004 Posted on 04/06/2004
Copyright © 2025 Dana E Brossard
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Maureen Glaude on 04/06/04 at 06:35 PM so sad to have returned home to suffer in a different way, perhaps the effects or your ordeals? It's a crime, it really is. Strong poem. |
| Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 04/08/04 at 12:06 AM the form in this piece is tight and immaculate... you have expressed your emotions thoughtfully and forcefully... oh dana, thank you for defending us and i pray for your peace of mind, body and soul... blessings... |
|
